DAWS  ON '11- 
FORTUNE 
HUNTER. 


eon 


/£ 


DAWSON  'i  i—  FORTUNE  HUNTER 


DAWSON  '11 

FORTUNE    HUNTER 

BY 

JOHN  T.  McCUTCHEON 

PICTURED  BY  THE  AUTHOR 


NEW  YORK 

DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 
1912 


COPYRIGHT  1911,   1912 
BY  JOHN  T.   McCUTCHEON 

The  cartoons  in  this  book  have  appeared  serially 
in  the  CHICAGO  TRIBUNE 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

OW,  don't  you  worry  about  me,  Mother.  I'll  get  a  job  all 
right,  and  before  you  know  it  I'll  be  driving  back  here 
in  a  hansom  hack  drawn  by  four  white  horses.     And, 
besides,  Chicago  isn't  a  long  way  off,  and  I'll  be  home  on  a 
visit  before  you'll  realise  I'm  gone.    I'll  write  every  week  and 

2O26S54 


2     DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

report  progress.  .  .  .  Certainly,  if  I  need  any  I'll  let  you 
know.  .  .  .  Well,  I'm  not  going  to  get  into  any  trouble, 
Dad,  so  you  needn't  worry  about  that.  .  .  .  All  right,  I'll 
promise  to  tell  you  if  I  do.  .  .  .  Yep,  Mother,  every  night, 
one  chapter.  You  put  it  in  my  grip,  did  you  ?  .  .  .  Sure, 
Sis,  I'll  send  you  a  set  of  the  prettiest  ones  I  can  find,  all  in 
colours ;  and  say,  kid  brother,  as  soon  as  I  can,  I'll  send  you  the 
baseball  mask.  .  .  .  Now,  please  don't,  Mother;  I'll  soon 
see  you  again.  Good-bye,  all;  I'm  off  to  make  my  fortune  and 
I  must  hurry  before  the  rest  of  the  'n  crop  get  all  the  good 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


DEAR  MOTHER:    I  arrived  safely  and  am  living  in  a 
boarding-house  down  on  Wabash  Avenue,  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal streets  of  Chicago.  I  secured  my  room  at  a  great  bar- 
gain— for  the  landlady — but  it  does  very  well  for  sleeping  pur- 
poses.   I'm  sending  you  a  rough  sketch  of  it.     My  home  life 
is  simple.    I  eat  in  a  little  restaurant  near  by — I  call  it  a  near- 


4     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

restaurant — but  the  cooking  is  not  as  good  as  it  used  to  be. 
So  far  I  haven't  created  a  great  stir  in  the  city,  but  I've  suc- 
ceeded, by  alert  activity,  in  keeping  from  being  run  over  by  the 
street  cars.  This  has  kept  me  so  busy  that  I  haven't  yet  had 
time  to  secure  a  position.  But  the  job-hunting  crusade  is  in 
full  blast  just  the  same.  I've  struck  sixteen  different  employers, 
but  they  seem  to  be  too  busy  to  be  interested  in  a  would-be  wooer 
of  Mammon  from  the  tall  grass.  About  half  tell  me  to  call 
again,  and  when  I  do  they  have  left  on  their  summer  vacation. 
One  man  gave  me  some  good  advice,  told  me  to  aim  high,  etc. 
Perhaps  I'll  get  work  on  the  seventeenth  floor  of  some  building. 
Still,  this  job  hunting  is  good  practice,  and  in  time  I  expect  to  be 
the  most  expert  job  hunter  in  Chicago,  if  experience  counts  for 
anything.  Everything  is  hustle,  bustle,  and  rustle  up  here,  and 
the  energy  in  the  air  is  so  infectious  that  I  find  myself  busier 
than  I've  ever  been  before. 

My  health  is  so  good  that  I  have  to  do  a  lot  of  walking  to 
keep  it  under  control.  Consequently,  I  do  not  patronise  the 
street  cars,  much  to  the  dismay  of  the  magnates.  My  funds  are 
lasting  pretty  well  and  I  don't  apprehend  hard  times  for  some 
days  yet.  By  that  time  I  expect  to  establish  friendly  relations 
with  the  business  end  of  some  concern  that  needs  a  young  man  of 
my  height  and  complexion.  There  I'll  lay  the  corner  stone 
of  a  swollen  fortune  that  will  put  the  Dawson  tribe  on  Easy 
Street.  Don't  worry  about  me.  I'm  feeling  great  and  hope 
to  report  grand  results  in  my  next  letter.  I  enclose  some  post- 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER     5 

cards  for  Sis  and  send  you  all  oceans  of  what  requires  no  extra 
postage. 

I  shall  now  peruse  the  evening  paper  and  then  repair  to  my 
luxurious  boudoir.  This  is  James'  evening  out,  so  I'll  have 
to  undress  myself. 

CHARLEY. 


DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


DEAR  MOTHER:  Things  are  coming  along  beautifully. 
I  haven't  quite  reached  the  pinnacle  of  success  yet,  but  if 
all  goes  well,  I  hope  to  get  started  soon.    They  say  that 
"Opportunity  knocks  once  at  every  man's  door,"  and  one  of  these 
fine  days  some  discerning  magnate  will  observe  me  floating  along 
among  the  by-products  of  civilisation  and  will  recognise  that 
his  opportunity  has  arrived.     Then  is  when  yours  truly  will 


DAWSOX  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER     7 

modestly  but  firmly  arise  to  ornament  the  niche  of  Fame  and 
Fortune  that  is  reserved  for  him.  In  the  meantime  I  am  in  an 
actively  receptive  state.  I  am  on  the  waiting  list  of  some  of 
the  biggest  concerns  in  Chicago.  I've  walked  a  rut  in  the  best 
sidewalks  and  am  now  one  of  the  landmarks  of  the  city.  People 
steer  by  me. 

There  are  several  prominent  firms  here  that  wouldn't  think 
the  day  had  started  right  if  they  hadn't  gone  through  the 
ceremony  of  refusing  me  a  job.  This  is  their  daily  programme : 
8  A.  M.,  unlock  the  store;  8:10  A.  M.,  unlock  the  safe;  8:15 
A.  M.,  refuse  Dawson  a  job,  and  so  on  ad  nauseam.  If  I  should 
fail  to  appear  some  morning  it  would  throw  the  whole  force  in 
confusion. 

I've  made  quite  a  study  of  city  life,  but  the  one  particular  thing 
I've  inferred  from  having  heard  it  repeated  several  hundred 
times  is  that  summer  is  the  dull  season.  Then  is  when  com- 
merce yawns  and  puts  its  feet  on  the  desk.  The  marts  of 
trade  hum  in  a  lower  key  and  jobs  are  as  scarce  as  farm  hands 
in  the  country.  The  modest  suppliant  who  comes  wooing  a 
job  is  asked  to  come  around  later.  I  never  seem  to  get  around 
late  enough.  However,  don't  think  I  am  discouraged.  Hope 
is  surging  within  me,  where  there  is  always  lots  of  room.  I 
wake  up  in  the  morning  with  it  buzzing  away,  and  sometimes  am 
kept  awake  nights  by  it.  We  are  great  chums.  And  above  all, 
please  don't  worry  about  me.  I'll  get  along  all  right.  I've 
moved  from  my  sumptuous  rooms  in  Wabash  Avenue  because  I 


8      DAWSON  'i i— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

didn't  like  to  make  a  vulgar  display  of  my  wealth.  I  am  now 
more  centrally  located.  Tell  Sis  I'll  send  her  a  set  of  those 
postcards  before  long.  Give  my  regards  to  the  hammock  that 
hangs  under  the  apple  trees,  and  tell  the  fried  spring  chickens 
with  cream  gravy  that  I  haven't  forgotten  them.  With  lots  of 
love,  I  am,  your  incipiently  successful  son, 

CHARLEY. 

P.  S. — Excuse  pencil;  my  private  secretary  is  having  his 
evening  out. 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


P\EAR  MOTHER:  Success  at  last  is  hovering  near,  with 
•*— ^  both  arms  full  of  laurel  leaves.  While  I  have  not  yet 
got  my  full  name  on  a  pay  roll,  yet  I  feel  that  I  am  worm- 
ing my  way  on,  a  letter  at  a  time.  The  ramparts  and  bastions  of 
commerce  can't  hold  out  long  against  my  combined  assaults,  and 
something  soon  will  have  to  give,  and  it  won't  be  your  loving 


io  DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

son,  either.  He  couldn't  if  he  tried.  However,  don't  worry 
on  that  score,  for  I  still  have  money  left.  They  haven't  got  it 
all  away  from  me  yet,  and  before  that  time  comes,  Victory,  from 
her  proud  perch  upon  my  banners,  will  be  eating  out  of  my  hand. 
The  triumphal  chariot  upon  which  I  plan  the  joyous  ride  adown 
Life's  rugged  stream  is  at  the  door,  panting  to  be  off,  but  on 
account  of  tire  trouble  there  is  a  slight  delay  in  starting. 

Don't  be  discouraged!  Success  that  comes  too  easily  is 
not  the  best  kind,  and  if  I  dropped  into  a  fat  job  the  very  first 
thing,  it  would  spoil  my  biography  when  future  historians  write 
it.  You  know  that  all  successful  men  have  modest  beginnings, 
accompanied  by  slight  disappointments.  They  are  what  make 
character,  and  while  unpleasant  at  the  time,  like  mathematics, 
they  have  a  grand  effect  on  mental  discipline. 

Thus  far  the  Moguls  of  Finance  have  not  shown  that  fierce 
competition  for  my  services  that  I  had  hoped  to  see.  But 
they  will  soon  awake  to  the  fact  that  there  is  a  determined  man 
in  town,  and  then  there  will  be  articles  in  the  financial  columns 
about  one  Dawson  getting  a  job.  And  then  look  out!  Some 
fine  day  you  will  see  coming  down  the  pike  eight  white  horses 
and  a  hack,  within  which  will  be  seated  the  proud  figure  of  your 
loving  son — the  erstwhile  Napoleon  of  Job  Hunters. 

I've  been  having  some  very  interesting  and  amusing  ex- 
periences from  the  standpoint  of  a  sociologist.  I  wish  very 
much  I  were  the  latter  so  that  I  could  enjoy  them.  I've  been 
collecting  data  and  statistics  upon  why  business  men  do  "not 


DAWSOX  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER  n 

wish  to  assume  the  responsibility  of  giving  me  a  job.  I  think 
I  hold  the  world's  record  for  waiting  to  see  busy  men.  They 
listen  patiently  to  the  story  of  my  life,  and  ask  me  to  come 
around  next  Thursday  and  they'll  see  what  they  can  do.  I  wait 
impatiently  for  Thursday,  and  they  forget  all  about  it.  One 
man  told  me  to  call  at  three,  and  when  I  got  there  he  was  leav- 
ing the  office  at  2  145.  I  tried  to  catch  his  eye  but  muffed,  and 
he  made  a  home  run.  I  went  to  the  office  three  times  after 
that  and  learned  that  he  had  sailed  for  Europe.  I  don't  be- 
lieve I'll  follow  him. 

I  dreamed  about  you  last  night.  We  were  eating  fried 
chicken.  That's  the  fourth  time  this  week  I've  dreamed  about 
eating,  and  it's  only  Thursday.  When  next  I  write  I'll  hope 
to  have  grand  news,  so  don't  be  discouraged!  Love  to  all  and 
oceans  of  it  for  you. 

.  CHARLEY. 


12 


DAWSON  '  1 1—  FORTUNE  HUNTER 


DEAR  MOTHER:    Don't  think  of  letting  Sis  stop  her 
music  lessons  on  my  account.     I'll  be  able  to  manage 
things  up  here  until  I  connect  with  a  friendly  pay  roll,  so 
please  don't  think  of  sending  me  any  money.  You'll  have  enough 
to  worry  about  in  putting  up  blackberry  jam  sufficient  to  supply 
me  when  I  come  home  to  visit  next  fall.     That  is  now  your 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    13 

sole  mission  in  life,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned.  Just  settle  back 
in  your  arm-chair  and  swat  the  hot  spell  with  a  large  palm-leaf 
fan,  and  when  you  think  of  me,  which  I  hope  is  often,  just  pic- 
ture me  on  the  trail  of  a  swollen  fortune,  such  as  will  make 
John  D.  and  Pierpont  turn  green  with  envy.  I  am  designing 
a  ten-cylinder  touring  car  for  you  and  a  beautiful  new  plug 
hat,  model  1911,  for  Dad.  His  present  hat  is  about  due  to 
come  back  in  style  in  another  year  or  two,  however. 

News  is  scarce  this  week.  The  supply  of  work  is  just 
one  short  of  meeting  the  demand.  I  had  hoped  to  chronicle  the 
pleasing  item  that  C.  Dawson,  Esq.,  Journeyman  Fortune  Hun- 
ter, had  accepted  lucrative  employment  on  the  sunny  side  of  a 
roll-top  desk,  or  a  bench,  but  such  is  not  the  fact  at  the  time  we 
go  to  press.  The  Eternal  Law  of  Economics  has  decreed 
otherwise.  Fortune  is  trying  me  out  in  her  crucible  a  little 
longer,  so  that  by  the  time  I  get  my  opportunity  I  will  not 
only  greatly  appreciate  it,  but  will  work  twice  as  hard  to  make  the 
most  of  it.  I  am  like  the  crude  iron  ore  that  is  going  through 
the  furnace  before  it  becomes  steel 

The  weather  has  been  open  to  some  much  needed  criticism 
during  the  last  week.  When  your  shoes  stick  in  the  asphalt 
and  the  sun  kisses  with  the  ardent  passion  of  a  busy  mustard 
plaster,  it  is  no  nice  way  to  do,  to  say  the  least.  Consequently 
the  crusade  for  employment  has  languished  somewhat.  Last 
Monday  I  invited,  dared,  and  implored  eleven  business  men  to 
hire  me,  and  was  just  on  the  point  of  putting  an  "ad"  in  the 


i4     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

paper  when  the  twelfth  man  dangled  a  rose-coloured  bunch  of 
Hope  before  me.  He  told  me  to  come  in  Wednesday  and  he'd 
see  what  he  could  do.  I  felt  sure  I  had  a  place  landed,  but 
when  I  went  back  Wednesday  he  was  out  playing  golf ;  on  Thurs- 
day he  was  at  a  directors'  meeting  and  sent  out  word  for  me 
to  come  Friday  without  fail,  and  on  Friday  he  went  to  New 
York.  His  office  boy  said  he'd  be  back  in  a  week  or  ten  days. 
For  about  three  minutes  I  was  somewhat  disheartened,  but 
then  Hope,  like  Atlas  rising  from  the  sea,  sprang  up  with  a 
loud  cry  and  swatted  Despair  a  staggering  jolt,  and  Optimism 
once  more  reigned  supreme. 

You  have  no  idea  how  beautiful  the  parks  are.  The  moon 
is  beautiful  and  hundreds  of  young  couples  are  out  looking  for 
jobs  as  husbands  and  wives.  It  reminded  me  of  the  campus  in 
June.  Have  you  seen  Nell  lately?  How  is  she?  I  haven't 
written  to  her  because  I  didn't  like  to  write  until  I  could  tell 
her  I  had  succeeded.  When  you  see  her,  write  and  tell  me 
everything  she  said.  I  saw  Scads  Allcott  on  the  street  last 
week.  He  is  going  to  Wisconsin  for  the  summer  and  intends 
to  try  for  a  position  here  in  the  fall. 

Well,  I  guess  that  is  about  all  this  time.  I  have  spent  a  lot 
of  time  in  the  parks;  it's  so  much  cooler  than  my  room.  And 
I'm  trying  a  new  dietary  system.  I  think  people  eat  too 
much  in  the  summer.  The  body  does  not  require  much  food 
to  create  the  heat  necessary  to  the  system  when  the  weather  sup- 
plies quite  enough.  So  I  am  going  light  on  heavy  foods.  .How- 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    15 

ever,  if  you  should  happen  to  have  fried  chicken,  just  please 
remember  me  lovingly  to  a  couple  of  bites  in  the  second  joint. 
I  am  trying  absent  treatment  on  my  appetite.  Love  to  all,  and 
don't  worry  about  me.  Lots  of  love  to  you. 

CHARLEY. 


16     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


TT\EAR  MOTHER:  Just  a  post  card  to-day — it's  threat- 
•^-^  ening  to  clear  up  and  get  hot  again.  I  intended  to  write 
you  a  nice,  long,  fat  letter  last  night,  with  at  least  four 
cents'  worth  of  postage  on  it,  but  out  of  sympathy  for  the  poor 
postman  who  would  have  to  lug  it,  I  am  compromising  on  this 
silver-lined  post  card.  It  is  a  picture  of  one  of  the  boulevards 
with  miles  of  mansions  and  thousands  of  automobiles.  "In  the 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    17 

foreground  you  will  see  a  handsome  man  with  a  silk  hat.  That's 
going  to  be  me !  And  that  large  automobile  just  behind  is  the 
one  in  which  I  expect  to  show  you  the  town  when  you  come  up 
to  visit  me  in  the  fall.  You  wouldn't  enjoy  coming  now,  it's  so  hot 
and  sticky.  But  in  the  fall  you  and  Sis  and  Bud  and  Dad  must  hop 
on  the  cars  and  come  up  and  we'll  have  a  regular  orgy  of  sight- 
seeing, with  at  least  two  hours  every  day  in  the  dressmaking 
shops.  Won't  it  be  great  when  we're  all  together  again?  I 
can  feel  my  mouth  water  right  now  for  one  of  the  kisses  that 
Mother  used  to  take.  My  chauffeur  will  explain  the  sights  as 
we  ride  along. 

I  suppose  you  are  anxious  to  hear  what  luck  I've  had  this 
last  week.  Well,  let's  see;  I  hardly  know  where  to  begin.  I 
tried  a  few  benighted  business  men  on  Monday,  but  they  said 
it  was  the  dull  season.  Perhaps  a  little  later,  etc.  One  man 
told  me  to  come  back  Thursday  because  I  had  an  honest  face 
that  inspired  confidence.  Hooray!  Bouquet  for  loving  son! 
So  on  Tuesday  I  spent  the  day  reading  in  the  public  library, 
and  on  Wednesday  I  met  Mr.  Graves  from  home  and  had  dinner 
with  him — a  regular  gorge  that  made  kind  host  comment  fa- 
vourably upon  the  relative  capacity  of  the  city  appetite  as  com- 
pared to  the  untrained  country  one.  I  thanked  him  in  gut- 
tural tones — tones  choked  with  food — and  tried  to  wear  my  hon- 
ours with  becoming  modesty.  Well,  I  thought  my  luck  had 
changed  and  was  certain  that  Thursday  would  dawn  with  the 
banners  of  Hope  flying  high  in  the  heavens  and  with  joy  singing 


1 8     DAWSON  'ii—  FORTUNE  HUNTER 

arias  all  around  me.  I  was  sure  that  the  closed  season  for  jobs 
was  over  and  that  before  the  shades  of  evening  fell  upon  the  great 
city  I  would  be  attending  my  own  coronation  on  Easy  Street.  I 
was  too  confident.  I  counted  my  chickens  before  they  were 
hatched;  in  fact,  I  not  only  counted  them  but  had  them  all 
fried  in  cream  gravy  served  out  on  a  beautiful  table  built  for 
five. 

Well,  at  the  appointed  hour  I  was  on  hand  with  hair 
brushed  and  face  washed  until  it  glistened.  My  prospective 
employer  was  waiting  for  me..  He  was  a  fine-looking  gentle- 
man, with  a  grey  cutaway,  a  diamond  pin  in  his  cravat,  and 
two  handsome  diamond  rings  on  his  fingers.  He  certainly  looked 
like  ready  money  from  top  to  bottom. 

At  last,  thought  I,  I  am  about  to  realise  a  life-long  ambi- 
tion and  get  a  job,  with  real  money  rolling  in  every  week.  He 
didn't  ask  any  questions  about  references  or  experience,  but 
said  he'd  give  me  twenty-five  dollars  a  week  to  start  on.  I 
nearly  fell  over  with  joyl  I  would  have  thrown  up  my  hat, 
but  was  afraid  of  breaking  the  electric-light  fixtures.  He  then 
said  he  wanted  me  to  get  some  better  clothes  and  began  count- 
ing out  some  money  for  that  purpose.  Real  money!  I  pinched 
myself  a  couple  of  times  to  make  sure.  He  told  me  that  it  was 
important  to  put  up  a  good  front  and  then  explained  the  work 
I  was  to  do.  He  said  with  my  face  and  some  good  clothes  I 
could  easily  make  a  hundred  dollars  a  week  in  commissions  aside 
from  my  salary.  There  was  something  about  it  that  didn't  look 


-FORTUNE  HUNTER          19 

quite  honourable  to  me.  So  I  refused  the  job,  and  the  real 
money,  and  departed  with  my  hat  and  other  possessions  intact. 
I'm  sure  you  will  think  I  did  right,  and  I'd  give  a  good  deal 
just  to  see  you  to-night  to  explain  the  whole  thing.  IVe  never 
wanted  to  see  you  so  much  as  I  do  to-night — not  that  I  am  dis- 
couraged. Not  much !  We'll  land  something  in  a  day  or  two, 
never  fear!  I  think  I  hear  Opportunity  knocking  at  my  door 
now.  So  good-night,  with  lots  of  love. 

Am  moving,  and  until  I  get  settled  you'd  better  address  me 
care  General  Delivery. 

CHARLEY. 


20     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


The  Rural  Free  Delivery 


DAWSOX  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    21 


DEAR  MOTHER:  Your  welcome  letter  with  the  money 
arrived  just  before  dinner  yesterday,  although  what  in 
the  world  you  sent  it  for  I  can't  imagine.     I  hope  you 
haven't  got  die  impression  from  my  letters  that  I  needed  any. 
But  that's  just  you,  mother,  all  over — always  denying  yourself 
for  us  kids.  I  suppose  it's  a  habit  by  this  time.  And  you'll  al- 
ways go  on  thinking  of  me  as  a  little  boy  instead  of  a  grown- 


22     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

up.  But  you  mustn't  send  me  any  more,  for  I  know 
how  much  you  need  it  at  home,  and  instead  of  you  sending  me 
money  I  ought  to  be  sending  some  to  you.  It  makes  me  feel  a 
little  ashamed,  as  though  you  thought  I  was  not  making  good 
up  here.  I'll  keep  the  ten  for  the  present,  however,  although 
I'm  going  to  prove  before  long  that  your  investment  of  twenty- 
one  years  of  unselfishness  in  Son  Charley  will  bring  you  a  rich 
reward.  I'll  refuse  to  compromise  on  less  than  a  thousand  per 
cent,  interest  in  cash  and  a  million  per  cent,  in  love,  in  proof 
of  which  I  hereby  send  you  a  large  instalment  of  the  latter  and 
hope  soon  to  send  some  of  the  former. 

I've  had  some  funny  experiences  in  the  last  two  weeks — 
you'll  laugh  when  you  hear  them.  I've  answered  about  forty- 
'leven  ads,  but  always  found  that  somebody  else  had  got  the 
job  just  before  I  arrived,  thus  proving  that  you've  got  to  get 
there  early.  At  one  place  the  choice  narrowed  down  to  two  of 
us,  and  I  think  I'd  have  got  the  place,  but  the  other  fellow 
was  married,  had  two  children,  and  had  been  out  of  work  for 
three  months.  I  withdrew  in  his  favour  and  he  got  the  job.  He 
needed  it  more  than  I  did,  and  his  gratitude  was  worth  the 
temporary  loss  of  my  meal  ticket.  Another  ad  that  I  answered 
was  at  a  large  business  place.  When  I  got  there  the  boss  was 
in  a  towering  rage  and  wouldn't  be  bothered  with  me.  One  of 
the  clerks  told  me  that  the  old  man  had  just  got  his  tax  assess- 
ment and  they  had  raised  him  from  $12,000  to  $15,000.  The 
clerk  said  his  collection  of  paintings  alone  was  worth  $200,000, 


DAWSON  f  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER          23 

and  I  decided  that  my  rich  friend  must  he  a  gigantic  liar  at 
least.  I  don't  want  to  work  for  such  a  man.  I'd  rather  go  hack 
home  and  work  in  the  livery  stable.  I  also  called  upon  a  prom- 
inent philanthropist  to  lay  before  him  a  proposition  whereby  I 
was  to  be  allowed  to  ornament  his  pay  roll.  He  gives  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  dollars  to  charity  every  year  or  so,  and  when  I 
heard  that  he  pays  some  of  his  girl  employes  only  five  a  week  I 
decided  he  wasn't  good  enough  for  me. 

I'm  sometimes  doubtful  whether  I  can  adjust  my  ideals  to 
the  practical  necessities  of  the  situation  up  here,  but  I'm  going 
to  keep  on  trying,  at  least  for  a  while,  anyway.  So  don't  be  dis- 
couraged. Keep  a  stiff  upper  lip.  When  I  do  get  a  job  it  will 
be  something  neither  of  us  will  be  ashamed  of,  whether  it  pays 
very  much  or  not. 

I  have  moved  to  a  little  boarding-house  and  have  a  room 
with  a  window.  I  eat  at  restaurants,  spend  my  time  after 
banking  hours  in  the  public  library,  and  am  giving  a  theater 
party  for  myself  to-night  at  the  moving-picture  show.  Oh,  this  is 
a  delirious  life,  surrounded  by  wealth  and  luxury,  but  so  far  I 
have  not  contracted  any  of  the  expensive  vices  of  the  idle  rich. 
I  have  organised  the  rest  of  the  boarders  into  a  Seeing  Chicago 
club.  They've  elected  me  president.  Each  Saturday  afternoon 
we  shall  go  on  excursions,  and  in  the  winter  we'll  have  debates 
and  readings.  Am  enclosing  a  poem  I  copied  from  one  of  the 
books  in  the  library;  I  thought  you'd  enjoy  it. 


24     DAWSON  'n— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

Give  my  love  to  the  old-fashioned  hammock  that  hangs  in 
the  trees,  and  with  oceans  of  love  to  all  of  you. 

CHARLEY. 

P.  S. — This  is  the  time  of  year  when  everybody  wishes  he 
had  a  vacation  and  didn't  have  to  work,  so  you  see  I'm  in  a 
somewhat  enviable  position. 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    25 


"Charley's  got  a  job,  Mrs.  Dawson!" 


26     DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


P\EAR  MOTHER:  I  enclose  $10  and  10,000  kisses,  which 
-*-^  please  apply  to  my  long-standing  indebtedness  to  you.  You 
probably  don't  want  any  payment  except  in  the  latter  me- 
dium, but  I  intend  to  pay  you  back  both  in  cash  and  love,  or  as 
far  as  they  can  go  toward  paying  you.  If  I  live  to  be  a  mil- 
lion years  old  and  made  weekly  payments  I  couldn't  begin  to 
discharge  the  debt  in  full,  but  at  least  you  will  always  know  that 
I  am  not  forgetting  what  I  owe  you  for  skimping  and  denying 
yourself  so  much,  that  I  might  get  an  education. 


DAWSON  'i  i— FORTUNE  HUNTER    27 

The  account  stands  as  follows,  according  to  my  reckoning: 
To  sitting  up  five  (5)  hundred  nights  when  I  was 

a  baby,  @  $10 . $  5,000.00 

To  walking  2,000  miles  (approximately)  trying  to 

put  me  to  sleep,  @  $i  per  mile. . . 2,000.00 

To  rocking  me  to  sleep  nine  (9)  hundred  nights,  @ 

$5 4,500.00 

To  singing  while  rocking  nine  (9)  hundred  nights, 

@  $10  per  song 9,000.00 

To  various  sums  advanced  for  circuses,  ice  cream, 

candy,  etc.,  etc.  (approx.) 500.00 

To  interceding  with  father  in  times  of  impending 

danger 2,550.25 

To  dresses  you  needed  but  you  didn't  get  while  I 

was  going  to  school  and  college 2,000.00 

To  efforts  to  make  me  wash,  say  prayers,  read  Bible, 

go  to  Sunday  School,  and  other  Herculean  tasks  10,000.00 
To  loss  of  sleep  while  worrying  about  me  when  I 

went  swimming,  etc. 2,000.00 

To  cash  advanced  on  present  fortune  hunting  cru- 
sade    35.00 

To  interest  on  above 50,000.00 


$87,585.25 

Deducting  the  ten  which  I  enclose  leaves  $87,575.25, 
which  is  still  due  you,  and  I  shall  vigorously  fight  any  com- 


28     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

promise,  no  matter  how  much  you  may  insist  upon  settlement 
in  affection  alone. 

Your  last  letter  was  so  full  of  encouragement  and  good 
cheer  that  it  made  me  feel  like  old  Mr.  Alexander  the  Great 
when  he  went  out  looking  for  more  worlds  to  conquer.  Things 
certainly  have  changed  a  lot  in  the  last  two  weeks.  I  don't 
mind  confessing  to  you  now  that  for  a  while  I  was  almost  dis- 
couraged. Nobody  seemed  to  need  me,  no  matter  how  much  I 
tried  to  convince  them  differently.  But  now,  how  different! 
The  birds  are  singing  and  the  sun  is  shining,  and  down  in  the 
innermost  recesses  of  my  pocket  there  is  the  musical  jingle  of 
real  money;  while  in  the  equatorial  region  there  is  a  compla- 
cent snugness  that  eloquently  tells  me  that  I  have  recently  eaten 
a  good  meal.  This  evening  I  am  sitting  here  in  my 
luxurious  boudoir,  clasped  in  the  friendly  arms  of  an  easy-chair, 
with  the  Goddess  of  Fortune  smiling  graciously  down  upon  me 
from  the  frame  of  the  old  master  that  hangs  on  the  wall. 
Two  weeks  ago  she  wouldn't  look  at  me,  and  yet  here  she  now 
is,  practically  eating  out  of  my  hand  and  making  eyes  at  me 
something  scandalous.  I  think  she  likes  me. 

The  financial  centre  of  the  world  is  slowly  shifting  in  my 
direction,  and  I  have  twelve  dollars  of  actual  money  in  my 
pocket,  with  more  waiting  for  me  at  the  end  of  the  week.  It's 
perfectly  wonderful  how  it  rolls  in  at  the  rate  of  $16  a  week. 

I  like  my  new  boss,  and  if  he  proves  to  be  honest  and  in- 
dustrious I'll  stick  to  him.  As  a  general  thing  all  employers  de- 


DAWSOX  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    29 

mand  honesty  and  industry  from  the  men  they  hire,  and  it  seems 
just  as  important  that  the  employes  should  demand  the  same 
from  their  employers.  So  as  long  as  my  boss  is  on  the  square 
he  can  count  upon  me  through  thick  and  thin. 

I  haven't  heard  a  word  from  NelL  I  wrote  her  when  I 
got  my  job.  Is  she  at  home  now?  Scads  AUcott  is  here 
after  his  summer  in  Wisconsin.  He  says  he  is  looking  for  a 
position. 

Love  to  all  and  more  anon. 

CHARLEY. 

P.  S. — You  needn't  worry.  I'm  not  going  up  in  one  of 
those  aeroplanes. 


DAWSON  'i i— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


DEAR  MOTHER :  Another  week  gone  by,  and  I'm  just 
that  much,  plus  $8,  nearer  my  fortune.    It  certainly  feels 
good  to  be  rich.     I  started  a  bank  account  to-day,  and 
I  understand  it  created  considerable  excitement  in  the  financial 
district  The  money  market  steadied  and  consols  went  up  a  few 
points,  and  I  expect  every  minute  to  hear  that  the  magnates  are 
getting  jealous  of  me.     But  that's  the  way  the  world  goes.  They 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    31 

never  noticed  me  when  I  was  poor,  except  to  ask  me  to  call 
around  later  when  business  picked  up.  It  was  the  same  way  with 
the  late  Mr.  Jason.  Before  he  found  the  Golden  Fleece  he 
was  hardly  able  to  borrow  a  dollar  in  Athens,  but  after  he  found 


it,  he  was  the  High  Cock-a-lorum  of  the  Forum.  Anybody 
would  lend  him  money  when  they  found  he  didn't  need  it.  Now, 
when  I  first  came  to  Chicago,  I  couldn't  have  borrowed  a  dollar, 
but  now  that  I've  started  a  bank  account,  I  could  easily  borrow 
a  hundred  times  more  than  I  could  then.  It  seems  to  me  that 


32     DAWSON  'i i— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

if  Jason  could  make  good,  Dawson  can,  with  all  the  modern 
appliances,  although  the  Fleece  seems  particularly  scarce  around 
here  just  at  present. 

Things  have  been  rather  dull  at  the  office  lately,  and  I'm 
sometimes  apprehensive  that  they  may  try  to  run  the  business 


without  me.  Every  time  the  manager  sends  for  me,  I  have 
nervous  prostration  for  fear  he  may  tearfully  inform  me  that  the 
firm  and  I  have  come  to  a  parting  of  the  ways,  and  that  hence- 
forth they  will  try  to  struggle  along  alone.  But  if  that  day 
ever  comes,  it  will  take  the  whole  office  force  to  fire  me.  It's  a 
big  concern,  with  an  enormous  factory  out  in  the  edge  of  town, 
and  they  employ  an  army  of  hands.  I  was  sent  out  there  last 


DAWSON  'i  i— FORTUNE  HUNTER          33 

week,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  that  if  the  chance  ever  comes  I'll 
ask  to  be  transferred  to  the  factory.  I  can  learn  more  about 
the  business  there  than  in  the  office.  I'm  reading  up  now  on 
the  various  processes  they  use,  and  have  sent  for  a  set  of  con- 
sular reports  dealing  with  the  development  of  the  business  in 
the  Argentine. 

I  met  Scads  Allcott  on  the  street  the  other  day.    He's  liv- 


ing  in  a  swell  boarding-house  on  the  north  side.  He  likes  it 
up  here  and  says  he's  been  to  the  theatre  every  night  and  the 
ball  game  every  afternoon,  and  looks  for  a  job  in  the  forenoon. 
He  told  me  he  had  several  letters  from  Nell,  which,  of  course, 
cheered  me  up  considerably.  If  she  is  looking  for  a  husband 
who  can  make  nine  holes  in  bogey  and  has  a  lovely  tan,  then 
Scads  is  exactly  the  party  for  her. 

I  must  close  now.     I  want  to  walk  down  past  the  bank 
where  my  $8  dollars  are.    Did  you  get  the  book  I  sent  you, 


34 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


and  how  did  Sis  like  the  set  of  post  cards?  Give  my  love  to  the 
cook  and  with  oceans  of  it  for  you  and  the  rest. 

CHARLEY. 

P.  S. — Am  enclosing  some  original  sketches  showing  life 
in  Chicago. 


P.S. 


*cdT 

-W-  UfrKu.^  o^A^^ 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    35 


DEAR  MOTHER:  Fortune  favours  the  Busy !    The  boss 
knows  me  by  sight  now,  and  upon  three  different  occa- 
sions he  has  honoured  me  by  inquiring  my  name.    It  will 
not  be  long  before  he  knows  me  both  ways  at  once,  and  then  is 
when  Fortune  will  begin  to  take  notice  of  her  humble  suitor. 
Fifty  years  from  now  the  historians  will  say:    "At  about  this 
point  the  fortunes  of  the  future  money  monarch  underwent  a 
change.    His  wages  were  raised  to  the  proportions  of  a  salary 


36     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

and  it  was  noticed  that  a  large  smile  overspread  his  classic 
features." 

Of  course,  coming  back  to  earth  again,  I  haven't  had  a 
raise  yet  and  I  haven't  done  anything  to  deserve  one,  but  I'm 
on  the  job  every  consecutive  minute  and  am  taking  a  real  in- 
terest in  the  work.  I  have  a  theory,  as  yet  unexploded,  that 
these  things  will  count  in  the  long  run  and  that  some  day  the 
boss  will  want  a  man  for  a  big  place  and  will  say  to  the  man- 
ager :  "How  about  this  young  fellow  Dawson  ?  I've  been  watch- 
ing him  for  some  time  and  I  think  there's  something  to  him." 
So  you  see,  Mother,  I've  got  it  all  figured  out,  and  when  the 
call  comes  I'll  be  within  hearing  distance. 

I'm  afraid  you'll  begin  to  think  that  my  sole  object  in 
life  is  to  get  rich,  and  I  don't  mind  confessing  that  it  was 
when  I  came  up  here.  My  one  dream  was  to  make  a  lot  of 
money  and  then  go  back  home  and  drive  up  and  down  Main 
Street  in  a  gilded  hack.  I  wanted  to  see  old  Mr.  Allcott,  who 
never  noticed  me  in  his  life,  hustle  down  the  steps  of  the  bank  to 
greet  me  as  an  old-time  friend,  and  to  have  Nell's  father  invite 
me  to  sit  on  the  bench  with  him  at  the  courthouse.  That  would 
have  been  glory  enough  for  one  lifetime. 

But  somehow  I've  changed  my  mind  since  then.  I  still 
want  to  get  rich,  of  course,  but,  first  of  all,  I  want  to  do  it  in  a 
way  that  we  both  can  be  proud  of.  There's  something  about 
money  that  hardens  people  who  think  of  nothing  else,  and  I 
don't  want  to  get  the  disease.  I  believe  I'd  rather  be  like  old 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    37 

Judge  Courtright  down  home,  with  all  his  friends  and  high 
ideals,  than  any  rich  man  I  know.  You  may  be  sure  that  if  I 
ever  do  make  a  fortune  there  will  not  be  a  cent  of  it  whose 
source  I  shall  wish  to  hide  or  the  method  of  its  acquisition  con- 
ceal. Why,  there  are  people  up  here,  with  more  money  than 
they  know  what  to  do  with,  who  own  property  which  is  rented 
for  all  sorts  of  improper  purposes.  I  sometimes  wonder  how 
they  can  let  their  children  enjoy  money  that  comes  from  such 
sources.  I'd  rather  be  just  comfortably  rich  and  feel  serene  in 
my  own  mind  than  to  have  barrels  of  money  without  the  re- 
spect of  my  neighbours. 

Scads  Allcott  doesn't  agree  with  me.  We  had  quite  a 
talk  about  it  last  night.  He  says  this  is  a  commercial  age 
and  everybody  looks  up  to  the  man  who  has  the  stuff.  A  big 
pile  is  the  hall-mark  of  success  and  a  man  is  a  fool  who  doesn't 
go  out  and  get  as  much  as  he  can.  Every  man  ought  to  look 
out  for  Number  One,  and,  if  anybody  gets  in  the  way,  climb 
over  him.  He  says  when  he  makes  more  than  he  wants  he  will 
become  charitable.  Scads  is  certainly  a  chip  off  the  old  block. 
And  you  know  how  much  every  one  down  home  loves  old  All- 
cott. If  he  lost  his  money  to-morrow  there  wouldn't  be  a  person 
who  would  sympathise  with  him. 

With  these  few  remarks  I'll  close  before  the  letter  needs 
4  cents  postage.  I'm  going  to  try  to  come  down  in  a  week 
or  two,  so  please  fatten  up  a  chicken  or  two  and  have  an  o.  f. 
kiss  and  hug  ready.  Loads  of  love  to  all.  CHARLEY. 


38     DAWSON  'i i— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


DAWSON  'i i— FORTUNE  HUNTER          39 

At  Home,  1 1  30  p.  M. 

DEAR  MOTHER:  It's  after  u,  and  so  I'll  just  write  a 
little  two-for-a-cent  one  to-night.  Some  of  the  other 
boys  here  in  the  boarding-house  dropped  in  to-night  and 
we  had  a  great  discussion.  We  came  out  for  clean  politics.  I 
know  you'd  like  them.  One  of  them,  Jim  Merritt,  is  in  the  office 
with  me  and  is  an  awfully  nice  fellow.  He  got  me  to  come  to 
this  boarding-house.  He  showed  me  a  picture  of  his  mother, 
and  she's  an  awfully  nice-looking  lady — almost  as  nice  looking 
as  you  are.  Compliment !  Two  of  the  boys  are  in  a  bank  and 
a  wholesale  house,  and  another,  Sewell,  is  a  stenographer,  a  sort 
of  assistant  private  secretary,  to  the  head  of  the  firm  of  Dodge  & 
Co.  They  are  our  strongest  rivals  in  business,  but  Sewell  and  I 
get  on  all  right.  He's  a  quiet  chap  and  seldom  says  very  much. 
Well,  we  had  it  hot  and  heavy  from  politics  and  finance  and 
back  again  by  the  way  of  matrimony,  colleges,  and  athletics.  We 
decided  everything  before  we  got  through.  Well,  in  the  middle 
of  it  who  should  come  in  but  Scads  Allcott.  You  could  have 
knocked  me  over  with  a  feather.  He  said  he  had  nothing  to  do 
and  thought  he  might  as  well  come  over  and  see  how  I  was 
situated.  He  incidentally  told  me  he  had  received  a  letter  to-day 
from  Nell.  By  the  way,  how  is  she?  I  don't  want  to  ask 
Scads.  He  hasn't  got  a  job  yet,  but  says  his  father  is  trying 
to  get  him  in  a  broker's  office.  After  the  other  boys  had  gone 
to  bed  Scads  sat  here  and  talked  until  I  thought  he  never 
would  go.  You  see,  he  doesn't  have  to  get  up  early.  He  says 


40    DAWSON  '  1 1—  FORTUNE  HUNTER 

I  ought  to  move  to  a  better  neighbourhood  and  get  acquainted 
with  the  kind  of  people  who  can  be  useful  to  me.     I  told  him 
I  didn't  like  the  idea,  and  he  called  me  a  chump,  and  we  let 
it  go  at  that.     No  more  for  to-night.     With  love  to  all — 
Your  loving  son, 

CHARLEY. 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

__ 


DEAR  MOTHER:  I  don't  know  that  I  ought  to  tell  you, 
but  I  might  as  well  now  as  later.    The  fact  is  that  I've 
had  a  little  trouble  with  the  head  of  the  firm  and  I'm 
very  much  afraid  that  he  is  going  to  try  to  worry  long  without 
me.  I'll  know  on  Monday.  Perhaps  there'll  be  another  Chicago 
fine,  in  which  I  will  figure  prominently  as  the  fire-ee,  but  anyway, 
whatever  happens,  you  mustn't  worry  for  a  minute.  The  fall  is 
a  good  time  to  look  for  a  position,  and  with  my  experience  I'll 
have  no  trouble  whatever  in  landing  another  one.  So  don't  wor- 
ry for  a  second. 


42     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

This  is  what  happened :  You  remember  I  wrote  you  about 
a  fellow  named  Sewell  who  lives  at  my  boarding-house.  He 
seems  like  a  nice  fellow,  rather  quiet  and  not  very  confidential, 
but  I  liked  him  and  found  that  he  could  give  me  a  lot  of 
good  advice  about  my  work.  He's  with  Dodge  &  Co.,  which 
is  in  the  same  line  as  our  firm — in  fact,  I  suppose  they're  our 
strongest  competitors.  Both  firms  do  an  enormous  business  and 
I  guess  there  isn't  the  best  feeling  between  them  because  they 
are  constantly  bidding  against  each  other  on  big  contracts. 

Well,  Sewell  has  been  dropping  in  to  see  me  every  evening 
of  late,  and  a  couple  of  times  we  have  gone  to  the  theatre 
together.  He's  been  just  as  friendly  as  any  one  could  be  and 
said  he  might  be  able  to  put  me  in  the  way  of  making  a  lot 
of  money  outside  of  my  regular  work.  He  didn't  tell  me  how. 
Last  Saturday  he  telephoned  for  me  to  have  lunch  with  him, 
and  I  met  him  down  at  the  entrance  of  our  building.  Just  as 
I  met  him  the  manager  of  our  firm  came  out  of  the  elevator 
and  nodded  to  me.  I  thought  he  looked  rather  queerly  at 
Sewell.  Since  then  I've  found  out  that  Sewell  used  to  work 
for  our  firm,  but  suddenly  left  for  some  reason  or  other,  I 
don't  know  what. 

Late  Saturday  afternoon  the  boss  sent  for  me.  Well,  maybe 
I  wasn't  excited!  I  felt  like  a  girl  who  knows  she  is  about  to 
have  her  first  proposal.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  been  offi- 
cially noticed  by  the  Grand  Mogul  and  I  went  into  the  private 
office  with  my  heart  in  my  throat.  I  thought  maybe  he  was 


DAWSON  'i  i— FORTUNE  HUNTER    43 

going  to  take  me  into  the  firm  or  consult  me  about  next  year's 
policy. 

He  glanced  up,  motioned  to  a  chair,  and  then  abruptly 
asked  me  how  much  I  was  getting.  I  told  him  sixteen  and  he 
smiled  pleasantly. 

"I  suppose  you  would  like  to  make  more,"  he  said,  and  I 
supposed  I  grinned  expectantly.  He  asked  me  how  I  liked  the 
work,  where  I  lived,  where  I  had  come  from,  if  my  parents 
were  living,  and  a  lot  more  things.  It  was  becoming  quite  a 
social  occasion. 

Suddenly  his  smile  faded  and  his  face  became  serious. 

"Young  man,"  he  said,  "I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  we 
have  had  our  eye  on  you  lately.  Whenever  a  young  man  shows 
promise  we  are  disposed  to  give  him  every  chance  for  ad- 
vancement, and  I  thought  it  might  interest  you  to  know  that 
we  are  looking  for  some  way  to  help  you  along.  In  a  couple 
of  weeks  we  hope  to  get  a  large  contract  if  our  bid  is  success- 
ful, and  if  we  do  we  may  be  able  to  put  you  in  on  that  work 
at  a  considerable  advance  at  once,  with  bigger  opportunities 
later.  You  will  have  a  chance  to  show  what's  in  you." 

Well,  say !  Talk  about  joy !  I  was  in  for  jumping  up  on 
the  chandelier  and  giving  nine  rahs  for  everything  and  every- 
body. I  thanked  him  in  a  choking  voice  and  as  he  turned  to  his 
work  I  started  out. 

"Oh,  by  the  way,"  he  then  said,  like  an  afterthought, 
"you  live  with  young  Sewell  of  Dodge  &  Co.  ?" 


44     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  I,  wondering  what  was  coming  next. 

"It  just  occurred  to  me  that  you  might  be  of  some  service 
to  us.  The  Dodge  people  are  bidding  on  this  contract,  and 
perhaps  you  might  get  a  little  line  on  their  bid  from  Sewell. 
Do  you  know  him  very  well?" 

I  was  amazed.  You  could  have  knocked  me  over  with  a 
feather. 

"You  want  me  to  find  out  their  bid  from  Sewell?"  I  man- 
aged to  say. 

"Why,  certainly;  not  in  a  dishonest  way,  but  just  casually, 
you  know.  Perhaps  you  can  get  a  slight  indication  of  their 
bid." 

I  got  up  and  was  almost  afraid  to  speak,  I  was  so  near 
crying.  It  seemed  as  if  the  lights  had  all  gone  out.  He  didn't 
seem  to  notice  my  agitation,  for  he  turned  to  his  desk  and  began 
to  fumble  with  his  papers. 

"Just  think  it  over,"  he  said;  "it  may  mean  a  good  deal  to 
you.  Let  me  know  in  a  few  days." 

Then  I  found  my  voice. 

"Mr.  Morrill,  I  can  let  you  know  now.  You  and  everybody 
around  here  have  been  kind  to  me  and  I  don't  want  to  seem 
ungrateful,  but  I  can't  do  what  you  suggest.  I  don't  want  to 
succeed  that  way."  I  started  out  and  was  getting  madder  and 
madder  every  minute.  At  the  door  I  stopped  and  turned 
around  and  blurted  out:  "Mr.  Morrill,  before  I  go  I  want  to 
tell  you  that  I'd  see  you  and  your  old  firm  and  your  contracts 


DAWSON  'i  i— FORTUNE  HUNTER    45 

plumb  to  thunder  before  I'd  do  that  kind  of  crooked  work." 
I  then  retired  while  the  retiring  was  good,  and  now  you  know 
the  whole  situation.  I  suppose  I'll  be  fired,  but  I  had  the  satis- 
faction of  stating  my  position.  I'll  let  you  know  how  it  comes 
out.  Lovingly, 

CHARLEY. 
P.  S.— Don't  worry. 


46 


DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


DEAR   MOTHER:    Well,   the  plot  has  thickened  and 
thinned  a  good  deal  since  I  wrote  you.  Everything  is  lovely 
now  and  the  goose  hangs  high,  although  I  don't  mind 
confessing  that  the  goose  hung  pretty  low  for  awhile,  especially 
just  after  I  had  told  my  boss,  Mr.  Morrill,  that  I'd  see  him  in 
thunder  before  I'd  try  to  find  out  Dodge  &  Co.'s  bid  from  Sewell. 
When  I  went  home  that  night  and  had  time  to  cool  oft  I  felt 
pretty  blue.    All  my  dreams  seemed  to  have  collapsed.    At  8 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    47 

o'clock  I  was  a  pale  blue,  at  9  a  deep  blue,  and  at  10  a  fright- 
fully deep  blue.  And  it  was  just  then  that  Sewell  dropped  in  to 
see  me  and  at  once  asked  me  what  was  the  matter.  I  told  him 
I  had  had  some  words  with  the  boss,  but  didn't  tell  him  the 
cause.  He  advised  me  to  go  back  and  apologise  and  by  all  means 
to  hold  my  job.  He  said  that  it  would  mean  a  good  deal  of 
money  to  me  in  the  long  run.  I  asked  him  how,  and  he  said  that 
with  me  in  Merrill  &  Co.  and  him  in  Dodge  &  Co.,  and  both 
these  concerns  bidding  against  one  another  on  big  contracts,  we 
each  could  do  pretty  well  if  we  worked  together.  It  suddenly 
began  to  dawn  upon  me  what  Sewell  was  driving  at,  but  I 
thought  I'd  let  him  go  on  just  to  see  what  sort  of  a  fellow  he 
was.  "For  example,"  said  he,  "just  now  there's  a  job  worth 
several  millions  that  they  are  bidding  on.  If  you  can  find  out 
Merrill's  bid  and  let  me  know  it  will  be  worth  a  pretty  good  sum 
of  money  to  you,  more  than  you  can  make  in  a  year  plugging 
along  at  your  present  salary."  I  think  he  saw  that  I  was 
getting  mad,  because  he  continued:  "Now  I  suppose  that  idea 
shocks  you.  You  are  just  out  of  college  and  have  a  lot  of 
fancy  ideas  about  honour  and  moral  ethics.  I  was  that  way  ten 
years  ago,  but  I  found  that  it  didn't  pay.  Business  nowadays 
is  a  cutthroat  game,  and  the  object  is  to  win  out,  no  matter 
how,  and  the  man  that  is  useful  to  his  firm  is  the  one  who 
gets  boosted  along.  Why,  there  isn't  a  big  business  in  this 
city  that  doesn't  do  a  lot  of  things  that  wouldn't  look  well  in 
broad  daylight,  and  somebody  has  to  do  them.  The  stockholders 


48     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

want  dividends,  and  they  are  not  very  particular  just  how  they 
get  them.  If  there  is  any  crooked  work  necessary  they  shut 
their  eyes  and  only  open  them  the  day  their  dividend  cheques 
come  in.  If  the  dividend  is  reduced  they  want  the  manager 
fired  and  a  new  one  put  in  who  will  produce  the  dividends. 
You  would  be  surprised  to  know  how  much  crookedness  goes 
on  in  business  affairs  and  at  the  respectable  people  who  wink 
at  it. 

"Now  sooner  or  later  you  will  discover  that  there  will 
come  a  time  when  you  will  be  asked  to  do  something  that 
seems  a  little  shady.  If  you  refuse,  out  you  go,  and  if  you 
consent  you  will  hold  your  job  and  be  regarded  as  a  very  useful 
and  valuable  man.  The  firm  will  stand  by  you  as  long  as  you  can 
produce  results.  For  five  years  I  plugged  along  on  a  high 
moral  plane,  was  fired  four  times,  and  finally  decided  that  I 
would  get  into  the  money-grabbing  game  regardless  of  meth- 
ods or  morals.  You  will  probably  be  shocked  to  know  that  it 
has  paid,  and  that  I  am  now  the  boss's  private  secretary.  I 
suppose  I've  done  a  lot  of  things  that  aren't  strictly  on  the 
square,  but  I've  been  a  useful  and  willing  worker.  I've  had  to 
perjure  myself  on  the  witness  stand  several  times,  but  I  believe 
it  is  only  right  to  stand  by  your  boss  in  trouble  as  long  as  he 
stands  by  you.  Now,  Dawson,  you  think  it  over.  I  don't  want 
to  persuade  you  to  do  something  you  don't  want  to  do,  but  in 
ten  years  you  will  thank  me  for  the  advice  I'm  giving  you. 
You  can't  get  rich  working  on  a  salary,  and  you  know  you  can 


DAWSON  'i  i— FORTUNE  HUNTER    49 

always  reform  after  you've  made  your  pile  and  your  children 
are  going  to  college.  I'm  going  to  cut  out  all  this  crooked 
work  some  day,  but  not  until  I  am  safe  on  Easy  Street." 

I  was  perfectly  amazed.  I  couldn't  imagine  anybody  talking 
in  such  a  cold-blooded  way,  and  I  didn't  know  exactly  what  to 
say.  But  finally  I  found  my  voice.  "I  suppose  you  mean  all 
right,  Sewell,  from  your  point  of  view.  And  I  suppose  you 
will  succeed  up  to  a  certain  point,  but  I'd  like  to  bet  anything 
I'll  ever  have  that  in  the  long  run  you'll  lose  out.  They'll  get 
you  just  at  the  time  when  it  will  hurt  you  most,  perhaps  years 
from  now  when  you  have  children  in  school  and  your  wife 
has  a  lot  of  nice  friends.  Then  the  exposure  will  come  and 
your  whole  family  will  be  disgraced  and  ashamed.  Every  day 
or  so  I  read  of  how  some  fellow  gets  caught,  and  I  honestly 
believe  that  it  always  comes  sooner  or  later.  I  intend  to  be  on 
the  square,  and  if  it  doesn't  pay  very  much  at  first  I  believe 
it  will  win  out  in  the  long  run.  Now,  Sewell,  I  wish  you 
would  go  out  and  never  come  in  my  room  again."  He  flushed 
up  a  little,  then  smiled  queerly,  and  said :  "All  right,  my  boy, 
you  go  your  way  and  I'll  go  mine.  If  you  ever  need  any 
money  let  me  know."  With  that  he  walked  out. 

Now  comes  the  real  joke.  When  I  went  down  to  the  office 
on  Monday  the  boss  sent  for  me.  I  didn't  care  what  hap- 
pened, so  I  walked  boldly  in.  He  was  smiling  and  very 
pleasant.  "Dawson,"  said  he,  "you  are  a  very  excitable  young 
man,  but  I'm  convinced  you  are  all  right  Sometimes  we  take 


50     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

queer  measures  to  find  out  which  of  our  men  are  honest,  and  it 
was  to  test  you  that  I  proposed  last  Saturday  that  you  try  to 
get  the  Dodge  bid  from  Sewell.  The  manager  had  seen  you 
with  Sewell,  you  know.  You  answered  me  just  as  I  hoped 
you  would,  and  if  you  keep  on  in  that  way  you  may  be  certain 
that  we'll  not  overlook  it.  I've  asked  the  treasurer  to  advance 
you  to  $20  a  week."  He  shook  my  hand  and  smiled  pleasantly, 
and  so  I  am  still  on  the  pay  roll. 

I  thought  you'd  like  to  hear  all  about  it,  and  so  I've  written 
it  all  out.  There's  one  thing  you  may  be  sure  of,  Mother,  and 
that  is,  when  you  are  old  and  grey  you  will  not  be  trembling 
in  fear  of  being  disgraced  by  any  exposure  of  crookedness  on 
the  part  of  your  loving  son 

CHARLEY. 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    51 


DEAR    MOTHER:      This      is    certainly    pumpkin-pie 
weather,  isn't  it?     Do  you  ever  think  of  such  worldly 
things?     It's  funny,  but  I  got  to  thinking  of  it  this 
morning  while  dressing,  and  I  haven't  been  able  to  think  of 
anything    else    since.      I    can't    get    it    out    of    my    mind. 
I'm    simply    haunted    by    the    pleasant    ghosts    of    bygone 


52     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

pies,  and  I  don't  know  what  I  am  going  to  do 
about  it  unless  I  organise  an  expedition  of  one  and  go 
down  home  for  much  needed  relief.  To-day  is  Sunday,  and  as 
I  walked  through  the  park  and  smelled  the  leaves  and  breathed 
in  the  fresh  October  air,  the  whole  world  seemed  to  whisper 
pumpkin  pie  to  me.  The  little  flurries  of  wind  and  the  whirl- 
ing leaves  sang  pumpkin  pie  until  I  felt  exalted  and 
uplifted  as  though  I  were  in  a  great  cathedral,  with  an  organ 
swelling  in  mighty  volumes  of  sound  and  with  an  angel  chorus 
carolling  an  anthem  all  about  pumpkin  pies.  To  tell  the  truth, 
I  was  considerably  homesick  for  pumpkin  pie  and  "the  mother 
that  made  pumpkin  pie  famous" — at  least  famous  to  me. 

Why,  I  had  never  even  heard  of  pumpkin  pie  before 
you  first  introduced  it  to  my  polite  attention,  and  I  may  say 
that  I  have  always  remembered  it  favourably.  I  liked 
the  poetry  you  put  into  it,  as  well  as  the  music,  and  when- 
ever I  think  of  one  of  your  pumpkin  pies,  which  I 
do  with  staggering  frequency,  I  think  of  it  as  an 
edible  golden  sunburst,  glorified  by  the  skill  of  a  master  in 
pie  craft.  Some  day,  when  I  am  rich  and  philanthropic,  intent 
upon  handing  myself  down  to  fame  and  reflected  glory,  I  shall 
erect  a  marble  monument  to  the  memory  of  your  justly  cele- 
brated pumpkin  pies.  I  planned  it  all  out  while  walking  through 
the  park  this  morning  and  picked  out  a  suitable  site  for  it. 
First,  there  will  be  a  marble  pedestal  fifty  feet  square,  at  the 
end  of  a  long  avenue  lined  by  Maxfield  Parrish  poplars  and 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    53 

pilasters.  Upon  the  four  sides  of  the  pedestal  will  be  the 
words,  "To  die  memory  and  glorification  of  pumpkin  pie,  the 
pie  of  the  Pierides,  erected  by  Charles  Dawson,  the  eminent 
connoisseur  and  pie-lanthropist."  On  top  of  the  pedestal  will  be 
a  big  bronze  pie,  400  feet  high,  high  enough  to  be  a  landmark 
for  sailors  coming  down  from  Milwaukee  and  points  north, 
and  lighted  at  night  by  a  row  of  arc  lights  around  the  edge 
like  a  golden  diadem.  Perhaps  I'll  have  this  pie  revolve, 
like  die  Ferris  wheel,  but  that  hasn't  been  definitely  decided 
as  yet.  I'll  have  a  famous  sculptor  do  the  decorations  around 
die  border  of  the  pie,  and  when  I  get  ready  to  build  the  memo- 
rial I  want  you  to  send  me  some  of  your  thumbmarks  and  linger 
prints,  so  that  the  pie  may  be  historically  correct.  Also,  I 
shall  keep  a  candle  burning  in  front  of  the  pedestal,  day  and 
night,  to  impress  people  with  the  solemnity  of  the  surroundings. 
Of  course,  I'll  invite  you  up  to  the  unveiling,  so  don't  make 
too  many  engagements  far  ahead.  And  don't  tell  anybody  just 
yet,  because  I  don't  want  it  to  get  into  the  papers  until  the 
Municipal  Art  Commission  has  approved  the  plan  of  the  "Pie 
Beautiful  Memorial." 

Now  I  suppose  I'll  have  to  leave  this  pleasant  theme  and 
come  down  to  worldly  affairs. 

I  suppose  Bud  has  been  out  nutting  these  days  and  that 
the  farmers  are  waiting  for  the  first  frost  before  beginning 
their  husking.  I'd  like  to  be  down  there,  wading  through 
the  leaves  in  Marshall's  woods,  with  a  bag  of  shell  barks  on 


54     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

my  back  and  with  my  fingers  black  from  walnut  stains.  I 
tell  you  that's  the  kind  of  life  that  gives  a  fellow  a  grand 
appetite,  and  by  the  time  he  gets  home  and  catches  a  whiff 
of  fried  chicken  and  biscuits  and  honey,  with  the  hallowed 
perfume  of  pumpkin  pie  hovering  near,  he  is  in  a  most  recep- 
tive mood  as  regards  the  supper  hour. 

I  can  see  you  now,  standing  at  the  kitchen  stove,  sur- 
rounded by  a  circle  of  eager  little  faces,  including  Old  Shep, 
and  with  ever)'  eye  following  the  supper  preparations  with 
alert  and  expectant  interest.  Those  were  grand  old  days,  those 
days  when  I  was  on  the  jury  to  judge  your  cooking.  Loud 
cheers  for  them,  and  viva  la  Pumpkin  Pie  I 

Here  I  am  again  talking  about  pie,  so  I  guess  I'd  better 
stop  before  I  use  up  all  my  stationery.  Give  my  love  to  the 
kitchen  stove  and  to  my  place  at  the  table,  and  be  sure  to 
keep  my  napkin-ring  polished  up  ready  for  an  emergency.  With 
oceans  of  love  to  you  and  all  the  folks. 

CHARLEY. 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


55 


DEAR   MOTHER :     Only  about   four  weeks  more  till 
Thanksgiving,  and  then  LOOK  OUT  !    You'll  see  a  familiar 
figure  dash  down  the  road  from  the  depot,  jump  the 
fence  in  one  leap,  and  light  right  smack  in  the  family  circle  with 
a  choice  lot  of  hugs  and  kisses  imported  especially  from  Chicago 
for  home  consumption.   I  may  have  to  come  down  on  the  night 
train,  but  I  hope  I  may  be  able  to  arrange  to  take  the  afternoon 
train  the  day  before.     It  will  be  simply  great,  and  I'm  look- 
ing forward  to  my  visit  as  eagerly  as  I  used  to  look  forward 


56     DAWSON  'i i— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

to  Christmas.  Why,  already  I've  lived  over  my  trip  home  a 
hundred  times  in  anticipation,  and  each  time  it  gets  nicer.  Sis 
must  play  over  all  the  grand  tunes  she's  learned,  and  Bud  must 
give  me  a  few  lessons  in  how  to  crack  hickory  nuts  and  eat 
Belleflower  apples.  I'm  afraid  I've  gotten  completely  out  of 
practice  since  I  came  up  here.  You  see,  they  don't  specialise  in 
eating  hickory  nuts  in  the  good  old  way  up  here.  They  don't 
know  that  the  only  genuine  way  to  enjoy  hickory  nuts  is  to 
crack  them  on  a  flatiron  in  front  of  a  roaring  fire  and  without 
company  manners  to  hamper  your  technique. 

I  suppose  Nell  Courtright  is  at  home  now  and  will  be 
when  I  come  down.  Scads  Allcott  dropped  in  again  last 
night  and  casually  mentioned  that  he  had  received  a  letter 
from  her,  but  I  didn't  ask  any  particulars,  for  fear  of  afford- 
ing him  the  pleasure  of  being  considered  an  authority 
on  the  subject.  He  says  he's  going  down  on  Thanksgiving, 
too. 

I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  Scads.  I  think  the  city 
is  going  a  little  bit  to  his  head.  He  isn't  as  nice  as  he  used 
to  be.  You  remember,  I  used  to  like  him  in  college,  but  he 
certainly  has  changed  since  he  came  up  here.  I  don't  know 
just  what  it  is,  but  whenever  I'm  with  him  I  seem  to  notice 
that  he  seems  a  little  coarser  and  more  sporty  than  ever.  When 
he  came  in  last  night  I  was  working,  and  I  actually  believe 
he  resented  it. 

"Great  Scott!"  he  said,  "can't  you  get  enough  work  in 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    57 

office  hours  without  lugging  it  home  with  you?  You'll  be  an 
old  man  at  forty,  Dawson,  if  you  keep  this  up." 

I  didn't  say  anything,  so  he  lighted  a  cigarette,  and  eyed 
my  work  with  disapproval. 

"Do  you  know  what  I  think?"  said  he.  "I  think  you're 
seventeen  kinds  of  a  chump  to  sit  in  this  stuffy  hole  working 
while  there  are  so  many  pleasanter  forms  of  exercise.  I'll  bet 
your  boss  isn't  working  to-night,  or  any  other  of  the  big  men 
in  your  office.  Not  much !" 

I  didn't  want  to  get  into  an  argument  with  him,  but  I 
just  couldn't  help  remarking  that  the  boss  and  the  big  men 
probably  had  to  do  a  lot  of  night  work  in  order  to  be  where 
they  are  to-day.  "Rats — and  again  rats!"  remarked  Scads. 
"You're  getting  to  be  one  of  these  goody-goody  boys,  and  if 
you  don't  wake  up  and  sow  a  wild  oat  or  two  you  will  be 
about  as  exciting  as  a  last  year's  bird's  nest.  Come  on,  put 
on  your  coat,  and  let's  get  out  among  the  bright  lights.  I'll 
show  you  what  you're  missing  before  it's  too  late." 

I  told  him  he  would  have  to  count  me  out. 

"All  right,  all  right.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  tempt  any 
nice  young  man  from  the  paths  of  rectitude.  Stick  to  your 
work,  Dawson,  and  by  forty  you'll  have  a  couple  of  thousand 
dollars  saved  up  and  be  baldheaded,  with  the  last  remnant  of 
your  youth  gone.  Now  is  the  time  to  play,  when  you  have 
the  capacity  for  enjoyment,  and  not  when  you  are  an  old  man 
who  doesn't  know  how  to  do  anything  but  work.  Sure  you 


58     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

won't  come?  I  know  a  couple  of  live  girls  who  will  make  you 
sit  up  and  take  notice." 

"Go  ahead,  Scads.  Have  all  the  good  time  you  want. 
Burn  up  the  town  if  you  feel  that  way,  but  just  count  me  out. 
I  have  a  certain  hunch  that  when  a  young  fellow  is  trying  to 
get  started  in  business,  that  that  is  not  the  time  for  him  to 
be  chasing  around.  Competition's  too  keen  these  days.  So,  if 
you'll  just  kindly  excuse  me,  I'll  stick  to  my  knitting  till  I'm 
established.  Then  there  will  be  time  to  relax  occasionally." 

"Sounds  like  a  baccalaureate  address.  Say,  Dawson,  do 
you  ever  get  any  pleasure  out  of  life?  Do  you  ever  cut  loose 
and  act  like  a  natural  human  being?" 

"Sure,"  said  I,  laughing.  "I  go  to  a  good  play  once  a 
week,  I  take  in  a  moving  picture  show  occasionally,  and  I'm 
getting  to  know  a  lot  of  very  clean,  decent  young  fellows.  I 
also  expect  to  get  a  lot  of  satisfaction  out  of  the  fact  that 
I'll  make  good  in  my  work,  if  I  do,  and  there'll  be  some 
pleasure  in  that." 

Scads  laughed  in  an  unpleasant  way.  "Why,  you're 
getting  to  be  quite  a  preacher,  aren't  you?  That  ought  to  make 
you  very  popular,  because  people  love  to  be  preached  to.  Have 
you  tried  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  yet?"  he  asked.  "You'd  have  a 
lovely  time  there — reading  the  papers  and  discussing  moral 
topics." 

"Scads,  you're  becoming  quite  a  humourist.  By  the  way, 
how  are  you  getting  on  in  your  work?"  I  casually  inquired. 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER     59 

"Oh,  ho !  Sarcastic,  eh?  Well,  you  never  mind  about  me. 
I'll  get  along  all  right,  and  I  won't  be  a  sissy,  either."  And 
with  that  he  went  out,  carefully  slamming  the  door. 

The  joke  of  it  is  that  Scads  has  had  two  jobs  since 
he's  been  up  here  and  was  politely  let  out  of  each  one  in 
spite  of  his  father's  influence.  Just  now  he  is  at  leisure.  If 
he  didn't  have  his  father  to  fall  back  on  he  would  be  up 
against  it  good  and  plenty,  or  else  he'd  have  to  try  harder 
to  hold  his  jobs. 

With  these  few  remarks  and  with  love  to  all — 
Affectionately  your  son, 

CHARLEY. 

P.  S. — I  think  before  I  get  through  I  shall  have  to  lick 
Scads.  He  seems  to  be  lacking  in  proper  respect. 


6o 


DAWSON  'n— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


DEAR  MOTHER:   I  had  a  curious  experience  yesterday, 
which  has  left  me  feeling  quite  depressed  ever  since.     I 
was  walking  down  to  my  work,  as  I  usually  do  in  the 
morning,  ambling  gayly  along,  enjoying  the  sunshine,  and  think- 
ing favorably  of  my  coming  Thanksgiving  pilgrimage  down 
home,  when  suddenly  a  little  dog  dashed  out  of  a  side  street  and 
hustled  down  the  sidewalk  ahead  of  me.   You  should  have  seen 
him.   He  was  the  most  woebegone  specimen  I've  ever  seen — all 
matted  and  frowsy  and,  I  suppose,  without  a  friend  in  the 


DAWSON  f 1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER    61 

world,  although  willing  to  make  friends  with  anybody.  He  was 
very  thin,  and  his  eyes  had  the  hurt  and  frightened  look  of 
one  who  has  been  kicked  and  chased  throughout  the  whole  length 
of  his  short  and  wretched  life.  He  had  the  look  of  one  who 
has  learned  by  bitter  experience  that  he  is  not  welcome  any- 
where. Well,  I  felt  so  sorry  my  heart  went  right  out  to  him. 
He  didn't  see  me  until  I  was  quite  near,  and  then  he  gave 
a  startled  look  and  scurried  out  of  the  way.  I  guess  he  thought 
I  was  going  to  kick  at  him,  as  mostly  everybody  else  had 
done,  so  I  resolved  that  if  I  never  did  anything  else  in  my 
life  I'd  give  that  dog  one  good  time  that  he  would  always  re- 
member. So  I  stopped  and  whistled  to  him.  He  was  very 
much  surprised.  Here  was  a  new  game  and  he  didn't  know 
what  to  make  of  it.  His  head  was  cocked  inquiringly  to  one 
side.  So  I  whistled  some  more  and  spoke  to  him  so  kindly 
that  a  wistful  look  came  into  his  eyes,  his  tail  began  to  wag 
apologetically,  and  he  slowly  wriggled  his  way  toward  me.  I 
made  more  friendly  overtures,  but  he  was  afraid  to  trust  him- 
self within  patting  distance,  and  so,  after  trying  so  long  that  I 
was  afraid  of  being  late  at  the  office,  I  sadly  resumed  my  way. 
After  some  time  I  turned  and — what  do  you  think?  There  he 
was,  trotting  along  behind  me.  When  I  stopped  he  stopped, 
still  out  of  reach.  I  again  addressed  him  in  friendly  terms, 
and  after  that  he  seemed  to  think  that  the  miracle  had  hap- 
pened and  that  at  last  he  had  found  a  friend.  His  eyes  seemed 
to  brim  over  with  trustfulness  and  gratitude.  So  he  joined  me 


62     DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

in  my  walk,  sometimes  trotting  at  my  side,  sometimes  ahead, 
and  sometimes  he  would  make  little  detours  to  investigate  al- 
leys and  garbage  boxes,  but  all  the  time  looking  around,  so 
as  not  to  lose  me.  Once  I  had  to  go  back  to  find  him,  and 
he  seemed  overjoyed  at  this  evidence  of  my  concern.  He 
wagged  so  violently  that  I  was  afraid  he  would  put  his  tail  out 
of  joint,  and  I'll  bet  his  little  ribs  rattled  in  the  slack  of  his 
corrugated  sides.  I  resolved  to  give  him  a  feast  that  would 
take  every  wrinkle  of  hunger  out  of  those  sides,  and  as  I  walked 
along  I  was  busy  making  plans  for  his  future.  There  is  a  little 
restaurant  near  where  I  work  and  the  man  who  runs  it  used  to 
live  in  the  country,  so  that  even  city  life  has  not  entirely  smoth- 
ered his  sympathetic  interest  in  the  homely  little  things  of 
life.  I  decided  to  take  my  new  friend  to  this  man,  purchase 
a  lavish  banquet  for  him,  and  then  try  to  devise  a  future  home 
for  him.  The  thought  made  me  quite  happy,  and  I  got  my 
reward  every  time  I  looked  down  at  the  bedraggled  but  friendly 
creature  that  trotted  so  airily  beside  me.  Two  minutes  before 
I  reached  the  restaurant  he  was  at  my  side,  then  there  was  a 
crush  of  traffic  at  a  street  crossing  and  when  I  got  across  the 
dog  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  I  went  back  and  looked  for  him, 
but  he  was  gone — probably  had  seen  some  other  dog  over  in 
the  park,  or,  becoming  frightened  by  the  roar  of  the  downtown 
district,  had  turned  to  go  back  to  the  quieter  districts  from 
which  he  had  come. 

Well,  I  was  terribly  sorry,  and  all  day  long  at  my  work  I 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    63 

couldn't  help  thinking  of  him.  And  somehow  the  more  I 
thought  of  the  incident  the  more  significant  it  became.  It 
reminded  me  of  some  people  I  have  known — the  ones  who 
always  get  discouraged  and  quit  trying  just  at  the  crucial  mo- 
ment, when  success  is  almost  in  their  grasp.  They  may  be 
honest  and  well  meaning,  but  they  give  up  just  a  moment  too 
soon.  Now,  if  that  dog — Alexander  the  Great,  Jr.,  I  called  him 
— had  stuck  two  minutes  longer  he  would  have  had  wealth  and 
friends  and  a  comfortable  home.  But,  like  lots  of  people,  he 
quit,  or  got  discouraged,  or  allowed  himself  to  be  distracted  by 
something  else,  and  now,  I  suppose,  is  shivering  and  hungry 
and  friendless  again.  After  hopefully  waiting  all  his  life  for 
Opportunity  to  knock  on  his  door  he  quit  waiting  just  a  moment 
before  the  summons  came.  I  think  I've  learned  a  good  deal 
from  that  little  dog,  but  I'm  terribly  sorry  for  him. 

We've  been  having  a  lot  of  scrambled  weather  here.  Yes- 
terday a  man  was  overcome  by  the  heat  and  to-day  it  is  bitterly 
cold.  Have  you  started  polishing  up  my  napkin-ring?  Lots  of 
love  to  all  and  an  extra  helping  to  you. 

CHARLEY. 

P.  S. — Yours  with  relation  to  the  evils  of  fighting  duly  re- 
ceived, and  in  answer  will  say  that  all  peaceful  measures  short 
of  the  loss  of  my  self-respect  will  be  observed  in  my  dealings 
with  Scads. 


i— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


TAEAR  MOTHER:  I  have  just  marked  off  another  day  on 
-J-^the  calendar,  so  that  there  are  now  only  ten  days  to  be 
hurdled  before  I  land  in  your  midst  on  Thanksgiving 
Day.  It  doesn't  seem  so  long  except  when  I  count  it  in  seconds, 
and  then  the  result  almost  gives  me  heart  failure — 864,000 
seconds !  It  sounds  like  a  lifetime,  so  I  figure  in  weeks  instead  of 
seconds.  You  see,  it's  only  one  week  and  a  little  over,  and  I 
think  by  superhuman  patience  I  can  last  that  long.  I'm  al- 
ready beginning  to  feel  a  pleasant  glow  that  makes  me  very 
happy,  and  also,  when  I  allow  myself  to  think  of  what  I  shall  do 
to  the  food  supply,  I  confess  that  I  am  strangely  interested. 
If  you'll  be  one  hundredth  part  as  glad  to  see  me  as  I'll  be  to 
see  you,  you'll  certainly  be  considerably  tickled. 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER    65 

I've  been  practising  for  the  Thanksgiving  dinner  for  some 
time.  Every  Saturday  night  Merritt  and  I  go  to  a  new  restau- 
rant and  practise  up,  so  that  by  the  time  I  go  home  I  shall 
be  no  amateur  with  the  knife  and  fork.  Merrill's  a  nice  fellow 
and  I  am  trying  to  persuade  him  to  go  home  with  me  for 
Thanksgiving — his  own  home  being  too  far  away — and  I  know 
you'll  like  him,  because  he's  a  very  clean  and  clever  citizen  who 
is  sure  to  amount  to  a  good  deal  one  of  these  days. 

The  prospects  are  that  I'll  arrive  in  good  condition.  You'll 
be  glad  to  hear  that  Scads  and  I  buried  the  hatchet  last  night 
— not  very  deep,  I'm  afraid,  but  deep  enough  so  that  only  the 
handle  sticks  out — and  I  imagine  we  won't  have  to  go  to  The 
Hague — or  the  mat — just  yet.  Even  as  I  write  I  can  still 
hear  the  echoes  of  the  white-winged  dove  of  peace  as  it  flapped 
gayly  around  us  last  night.  In  fact,  it  flapped  almost  too 
loud  to  be  comfortable,  for  the  peace  conference  was  held  in 
a  restaurant  and  attracted  a  great  deal  of  concentrated  atten- 
tion from  the  rest  of  the  people  at  the  tables. 

This  is  the  way  it  happened :  Merritt  and  I  had  been  to 
our  weekly  show,  and  as  it  was  Saturday  night  we  stopped  in 
at  a  restaurant  to  get  a  bite  before  wending  our  way  home- 
ward. Well,  while  we  were  sitting  there  discussing  affairs 
of  state  and  giving  expert  advice  on  how  to  run  the  government, 
who  should  come  in  but  Scads.  He  had  some  girl  with  him,  and 
they  took  a  table  over  in  the  corner  not  far  from  us.  Scads  was 
trying  to  convince  the  girl  that  Yale  would  eat  up  Harvard  next 


66     DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

week  and  the  girl  was  urging  him  not  to  talk  so  loud.  You 
would  have  thought  Scads  was  at  least  the  president  of  Yale, 
to  hear  him  talk,  though,  of  course,  he's  never  been  there  in 
his  life  and  only  knows  the  yells  from  hearsay.  Finally  Merritt 
and  I  started  out  and  Scads  saw  us  and  called  to  us  as  if  shouting 
across  a  football  field.  Everybody  looked  around  to  see  what  the 
trouble  was,  while  Scads  in  his  efforts  to  reach  us  knocked  over 
a  chair  and  spilled  a  lot  of  overcoats  and  hats  on  the  floor.  It 
was  very  embarrassing,  because  Scads  was  determined  that  we 
shouldn't  go  until  we  had  met  his  friend.  "Come  over,  Dawson, 
and  meet  my  little  playmate.  You,  too,  Merritt;  the 
more  the  merrier."  Well,  to  avoid  a  long  and  painful  argument 
out  in  the  middle  of  the  floor  we  went  over,  Scads  whispering 
to  us  to  remember  that  his  name  was  Livingston — Herbert 
Livingston — and  that  he  lived  in  New  York.  He  introduced  us 
and  began  hammering  the  table  for  a  waiter.  It  was  awfully 
embarrassing,  because  everybody  was  looking  at  him  and  some 
of  the  people  were  getting  sore.  I  felt  sorry  for  the  girl, 
though  she  didn't  seem  to  mind  it  very  much,  but  kept  telling  him 
to  keep  quiet.  Well,  we  got  away  at  last  and  I  breathed  a  sigh 
of  relief  when  we  got  outside.  I'm  afraid  Scads  will  have  a 
quick  finish  if  he  keeps  up  this  pace  very  long,  and  I  can't  help 
feeling  sorry  that  he  is  losing  his  head  so  fearfully  up  here. 

Well,  it's  getting  late  now,  so  I  must  close.     Don't  forget 
the  day  and  date — November  3<Dth ! — and  with  love  to  all. 

CHARLEY. 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


DEAR  NELL:     Scads  has  just  told  me  the  news  of  your 
engagement,  and  I  want  to  express  my  sincerest  good 
wishes.    I  hope  the  future  will  be  full  of  happiness,  and 
that  all  the  good  things  in  the  world  will  be  yours,  as  you  so 
richly  deserve.     Of  course,  I  have  expected  the  announcement 
for  weeks — ever  since  the  middle  of  the  summer  when  Scads 
showed  so  plainly  that  he  was  carrying  about  a  big  secret  that 
he  was  almost  bursting  to  tell  me — so  that  now  the  news  does 
not  come  altogether  as  a  complete  surprise.     I  am  only  sur- 
prised that  I  was  so  dull  as  not  to  suspect  it  even  before  I  left 


68     DAWSON  'n— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

home  in  June,  but  I  suppose  I  was  so  excited  by  the  prospect  of 
my  job-hunting  crusade  in  Chicago  that  I  failed  to  observe  the 
indications.  It  seems  years  since  June,  Nell,  and  what  a  lot 
of  things  have  happened  since  then !  I'm  sure  you  will  never 
realise  how  very  much  your  good  wishes  and  encouragement 
did  for  me  during  the  first  few  weeks  up  here.  There  were 
times  when  I  almost  lost  heart.  Those  were  certainly  days  of 
failure  and  disappointment,  though  fortunately  they  didn't  last 
but  for  a  time.  I  hadn't  the  heart  to  write  to  my  friends  that 
I  had  failed  to  catch  on.  You  have  no  idea  how  ashamed  I 
was,  and  how  it  hurt  my  pride  to  have  the  friends  back  home 
think  that  I  wasn't  making  good.  Possibly  it  might  please  you  a 
little  to  know  that  your  good  wishes  and  encouragement  did 
worlds  of  good  for  me,  and  made  me  determined  to  justify  my- 
self in  your  opinion.  I  don't  suppose  you  thought  anything 
about  it,  but  it  made  a  big  difference  to  me,  and  I  shall  never 
in  the  world  forget  your  kindness,  or  be  able  to  repay  it,  ex- 
cept in  the  good  wishes  that  I  now  send  you  from  the  bottom 
of  my  heart.  I  hope  you'll  be  very  happy  and  that  some  time 
I  may  see  you  to  thank  you  as  much  as  I  can  for  being  my  good 
angel  in  the  dark  days  when  I  was  hovering  on  the  brink  of 
total  discouragement.  I  had  hoped  to  come  down  for  Thanks- 
giving, but  it  is  possible  I  may  not  be  able  to  arrange  it  on 
account  of  a  matter  that  has  recently  come  up. 

Please  remember,  Nell,   that  if  there   is  ever  anything 
in  the  world  that  I  can  do  for  you,  you  will  let  me  know. 

CHARLEY. 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


69 


D 


AWSON  'n  settled  back  for  the  five  hours'  ride  and 
gazed  sombrely  out  of  the  car  window.  He  was  going 
home  for  Thanksgiving,  the  first  trip  back  since  he  had 
come  to  Chicago  six  months  before,  and  the  joy  that  he  had 
expected  to  feel  was  not  in  him.  His  chin  was  buried  in  his 
hand  and  his  eyes  gloomily  followed  the  changing  scene  as  it 
shifted  from  tall  grain  elevators  to  ragged  outskirts  and  then 
to  the  brown  November  landscape  of  the  open  country.  At  last 
he  was  actually  making  the  trip  that  his  fancy  had  pictured  to 


70     DAWSON  ' 1 1—  FORTUNE  HUNTER 

him  so  glowingly  for  weeks  past,  yet  here  he  was  wrapped  in 
melancholy  meditations.  The  one  person  besides  his  mother 
whom  he  had  most  eagerly  looked  forward  to  seeing  had  been 
torn  from  his  dreams  and  he  must  not  think  of  her  any  more; 
which,  of  course,  made  him  think  of  her  a  good  deal  more. 
Each  thought  was  painful,  but  there  was  a  grim  pleasure  in 
martyring  himself  to  this  self-inflicted  pain. 

"Why  in  the  world  did  I  come?"  he  asked  himself  over 
and  over,  and  then  felt  ashamed  of  himself  for  asking  it. 
He  knew  perfectly  well  what  the  answer  was,  and  it  was  always 
the  same.  It  was  because  his  mother  had  looked  forward  to 
his  coming  for  weeks,  and  he  hadn't  the  heart  to  send  the 
telegram  that  was  to  say  that  he  couldn't  come,  when  he  knew 
that  by  so  doing  he  was  following  his  own  wishes  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  bitter  disappointment  he  knew  she  would  feel. 

"Oh,  well,  it's  all  in  a  lifetime,"  he  thought,  bitterly, 
"and  I  might  as  well  look  on  the  bright  side  of  things.  I've 
got  no  business  thinking  of  getting  married  for  a  year  or  two, 
anyway,  and  besides,  maybe  I'm  not  as  sad  as  I  think  I  am. 
Perhaps  it's  just  my  vanity  that  is  hurt.  Anyway,  it's  all  over 
and  I'll  just  proceed  to  dismiss  her  from  all  future  calculations." 
So  saying,  he  made  an  elaborate  motion  as  though  plucking 
something  from  him  and  dropping  it  in  the  aisle.  "There  she 
goes.  She  is  no  more,  so  far  as  I'm  concerned.  I've  got  along 
without  her  for  twenty-one  years  and  I  guess  I  can  worry  along 
for  a  little  while  longer.  Henceforth  we  are  merely  old  friends, 


DAWSON  'i  i—  FORTUNE  HUNTER     71 

or  acquaintances.  She'll  never  know  how  I've  felt.  If  I  meet 
her,  I'll  greet  her  as  though  I'd  never  dreamed  of  being  any- 
thing but  an  old  friend.  I'll  congratulate  her  on  her  engage- 
ment to  'Scads'  as  though  I  took  a  fatherly  interest  in  them." 
He  thought  for  a  moment.  "I  wonder  whether  I'd  better 
call  and  congratulate  her.  It  will  be  awfully  hard  to  do,  but 
if  I  don't  call,  she'll  think  I'm  fearfully  disappointed  and  sore." 
In  this  way  his  thoughts  rambled  on,  and  he  was  beginning 
to  have  quite  a  pleasant  time  in  making  himself  so  miserable. 
The  daylight  was  waning,  and  the  car  was  becoming  dark  with 
the  late  afternoon  shadows. 

"I  wonder  why  'Scads'  isn't  on  board?  He  said  he  was 
coming  down  on  this  train."  This  lead  furnished  material  for 
profound  meditation.  Perhaps  "Scads"  had  failed  to  come. 
There  was  a  pleasing  flavour  in  that  reflection,  but,  perhaps,  im- 
patient to  see  Xell  Courtright,  he  had  come  down  on  an  earlier 
train.  That  thought  was  not  so  pleasing. 

"Great  guns,"  he  muttered,  "one  would  think  I'd  never 
been  in  love  before,  the  way  I  keep  on  thinking  of  this  tiresome 
subject.  I  must  brace  up  and  stop  thinking  about  her.  I  didn't 
think  of  her  half  as  much  before  I  heard  she  was  engaged  to 
'Scads,'  which  shows  that  it's  only  my  vanity  that  is  hurt. 
Little  Charley  got  his  all  right,  and  he's  peeved." 

Finally  in  the  midst  of  these  joyous  meditations,  he  be- 
came conscious  that  the  train  was  rushing  along  amidst  familiar 
landmarks.  There  was  a  mill  that  he  had  known  from  boyhood, 


72     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

here  a  deep  cut  and  heavy  grade  that  told  him  home  was  only 
a  few  minutes  away.  Home!  A  warmth  suffused  him  like 
a  wave.  His  heart  was  beating  faster  at  the  thought  that  only 
a  few  minutes  away  was  the  mother  he  so  longed  to  see,  and  the 
dear  old  home  and  all  the  ones  he  loved  and  the  places  that 
were  so  enshrined  in  his  memory.  Only  a  few  minutes  more  1 

Long  before  the  train  had  stopped  he  was  out  on  the  lowest 
step,  and  when  it  slowed  down  to  a  full  stop  he  was  in  the  arms 
of  the  happiest-looking  middle-aged  woman  one  would  see 
in  a  year's  journey.  Bud  and  Sis  and  Dad  were  each  struggling 
to  seize  the  returned  magnate,  and  the  chorus  of  questions  and 
exclamations  were  too  chaotic  to  be  analysed.  It  was  not 
until  they  were  half  way  home  that  the  conversation  began  to 
get  straightened  out  into  anything  like  coherency. 

And  it  was  not  until  the  train  had  pulled  out  and  the 
platform  lay  bare  in  the  loneliness  of  its  darkness,  that  a  girl 
drove  away  from  the  station  alone. 
"Scads"  had  failed  to  come. 


DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER     73 


DAWSON'S  visit  home  was  a  great  success.    His  troubles 
faded  away  in  the  genial  atmosphere  of  affection  that 
pervaded  the  old  home.     At  first  he  was  vaguely  de- 
pressed by  the  feeling  that  he  was  regarded  as  "company,"  for 
he  was  conscious  that  his  brother  Bud  was  subdued  and  quiet,  as 
though  awed  by  the  presence  of  a  visitor  from  far  away  in  the 
great  city.    The  thousand  and  one  questions  that  the  boy  had 
saved  up  to  ask  were  restrained  beneath  a  respectful  silence, 
and  it  was  not  until  the  talk  touched  the  subject  of  football 
that  Bud  was  thawed  out  of  his  reserve,  and  the  great  flood  of 


74     DAWSON  '  1 1—  FORTUNE  HUNTER 

questions  burst  forth  in  such  a  torrent  that  his  father  was  obliged 
"unreasonably"  to  restrain  him  from  monopolising  the  con- 
versation. 

Dawson's  little  sister,  with  her  hair  combed  so  tight  that 
it  stretched  the  corners  of  her  eyes,  also  was  shy  and  oppres- 
sively awed  by  the  presence  of  a  visitor.  When  she  played 
her  newly  learned  "pieces,"  painfully  picking  out  the  notes, 
she  made  so  many  mistakes  that  she  was  deeply  humiliated, 
and  was  only  partly  consoled  by  hearing  such  words  of  praise 
as  not  even  a  Bloomfield-Zeisler  had  ever  received. 

Old  Shep  remembered  him  and  wagged  his  shaggy  tail  in 
such  an  excess  of  joy  that  he  threatened  to  demolish  all  the 
bric-a-brac  within  reach. 

It  was  an  evening  to  be  remembered,  an  evening  when 
the  atmosphere  fairly  purred  with  happiness  and  contentment, 
and  Dawson  made  new  resolves  in  his  heart  that  he  would  try 
harder  than  ever  to  deserve  the  trust  and  faith  of  those  whose 
love  had  followed  him  so  steadfastly  throughout  his  trying  days 
in  a  strange  and  friendless  city.  As  he  looked  at  his  mother, 
rocking  and  sewing  and  beaming,  he  felt  himself  strengthened 
in  his  determination  never  consciously  or  wilfully  to  do  anything 
that  would  bring  pain  or  disappointment  to  her.  Some  men,  he 
reflected,  remember  their  mothers  only  when  they  are  in  trouble; 
others  remember  them  only  when  they  wish  to  use  them  in  in- 
fluencing a  jury  to  clemency;  he  would  try  to  remember  her 


DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER     75 

before  he  got  into  trouble,  and,  because  of  her,  try  his  best 
to  keep  out  of  it. 

When  Dawson  was  curled  up  in  his  old  bed  that  night 
his  last  waking  remembrance  was  that  some  one  was  tucking 
the  covers  about  him. 


76     DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


WHEN  Dawson  '  1 1  awakened,  the  sunshine  of  Thanks- 
giving morning  was  streaming  into  his  room.  All  about 
him,  like  faithful  friends,  stood  the  familiar  pieces  of 
old-fashioned  furniture  that  he  had  known  since  he  was  a  child, 
and  as  he  looked  affectionately  at  each  well-remembered  article 
something  of  the  spirit  of  the  day  found  joyous  expression  in 
his  heart.     My,  but  it  was  good  to  be  home  again ! 

Suppressed  sounds  from  below  told  him  that  the  house- 
hold was  stirring  and  that  they  were  moving  about  quietly 


DAWSON  Ji i— FORTUNE  HUNTER  77 

to  avoid  wakening  him.  "I'll  bet  mother  told  them  to  let 
me  sleep  as  long  as  I  wanted  to.  However,  here  goes !  The 
hot  biscuits  and  honey  are  waiting,  and  I  don't  want  to  dis- 
appoint them." 

After  breakfast,  he  announced  his  intention  of  taking  a  long 
walk  to  inspect  the  changes  that  Time  had  wrought  in  the 
scenery  during  the  last  five  months. 

"I  must  go  into  training  for  dinner,"  he  said,  "and  I 
think  a  five-mile  stroll  will  put  me  in  condition  for  certain 
gastronomical  triumphs  I  have  in  mind." 

"I  thought  'Scads'  Allcott  was  coming  down  with  you," 
said  his  mother. 

"I  thought  so,  too,  but  I  guess  he  came  down  on  an  earlier 
train.  I'll  probably  run  across  him  somewhere  this  forenoon." 

"Well,  remember  to  be  back  before  dinner.  It's  at  one, 
remember !" 

"I'll  be  here  all  right,  mother,  waiting  right  in  the  front 
row  when  the  dinner-bell  rings." 

As  Dawson  prepared  to  go,  his  mother  asked  him  to  be 
sure  to  drop  in  and  see  Uncle  Fred  and  Aunt  Emma,  also 
eight  or  ten  other  friends  and  relatives  who  would  be  offended 
if  the  returned  "fortune  hunter"  failed  to  pay  his  respects. 

"And  you  ought  to  go  round  and  see  Nell  Courtright," 
she  added  as  an  afterthought.  Dawson  paused  at  the  door. 

"That's  a  good  idea,"  he  said.  "I  think  I  will  drop  in  for 
a  moment,  and,  besides,  I'd  like  to  say  howdy  to  the  judge." 


78  DAWSON  'i i— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

"She  was  here  yesterday." 

"Who— Nell?" 

His  tone  was  one  of  intense  interest. 

"Yes;  she  came  in  to  see  me  about  some  work  in  con- 
nection with  the  church  bazaar  and " 

"I  didn't  know  you  knew  her  very  well — she's  been  away 
so  much.  Does  she  come  to  see  you  very  often?" 

"She's  been  to  see  me  twice — once  just  after  you  went 
away  and  then  yesterday  about  the  bazaar." 

Dawson  nerved  himself  to  make  a  casual  inquiry. 

"Did  she  have  anything  to  say  about  loving  son?"  he 
asked. 

"Oh,  no;  she  just  came  about  the  bazaar;  but,  of  course, 
I  told  her  you  were  coming  down  to-day." 

As  Dawson  walked  down  the  street  he  was  the  storm 
centre  of  a  great  many  conflicting  emotions.  At  one  moment 
he  would  allow  himself  the  pleasure  of  an  optimistic  hope, 
and  at  the  next  he  would  plunge  himself  into  a  sea  of  gloom. 

"Mr.  Dawson,"  he  said,  "you  are  seventeen  kinds  of  a 
chump.  You  are  entitled  to  a  medal  of  the  Amalgamated 
Order  of  Jays.  What  you  want  is  to  discharge  a  large  cargo 
of  excess  hope  and  face  the  cold,  unrelenting  facts  of  the  case. 
She  is  engaged,  and  you  are  in  the  discard.  She  doesn't  care 
a  whoop  whether  you  are  here  or  are  spending  the  week  end  in 
Kamchatka.  Now,  just  remember  that !" 

Fortified  by  this  stern  admonition  he  walked  twice  past 


DAWSON  ' 1 1—  FORTUNE  HUNTER     79 

the  gate  of  Judge  Courtright's  old-fashioned  home — the  first 
time  without  looking  in  and  the  second  time  with  a  sweeping 
glance  that  might  reveal  the  presence  of  one  "Scads"  Allcott  if 
such  a  person  were  there. 

"This  is  childish!"  he  exclaimed  in  disgust.  "What's 
the  harm  of  going  boldly  in,  saying  howdy  to  the  judge,  wish- 
ing Nell  prosperity  and  happiness,  and  then  a  graceful  exit 
in  my  best  city  style?" 

When  he  had  rung  the  bell  he  waited  in  dread  lest  the 
family  were  out,  and  more  dread  lest  they  were  in.  But  he 
did  not  have  to  wait  long.  The  door  was  suddenly  flung  open. 

"Why,  Charley  Dawson!  When  did  you  come  down? 
Why,  it's  so  nice  to  see  you  even  if  you  will  neglect  your  old 
friends  since  you've  gone  away  to  the  city."  It  was  Nell.  All 
his  urbane  manner  faded  away  and  the  old  shyness  returned, 
together  with  the  peculiar  spell  that  he  always  felt  when  with 
her.  In  hanging  up  his  hat  he  dropped  it  and  inwardly  reviled 
himself  as  a  jay  of  purest  ray  serene.  He  could  be  perfectly 
natural  with  anybody  but  her;  all  his  awkwardness  seemed  to 
leap  forth  and  clamour  for  recognition  whenever  he  was  with 
her. 

"My,  it's  good  to  see  you  again,  Nell!"  he  exclaimed,  his 
face  glowing  with  a  tumult  of  assorted  emotions.  He  noticed 
with  regret  that  she  was  prettier  and  nicer  than  she  had  ever 
been  before.  He  had  half  hoped  she  would  not  be  as  attractive 
as  his  dreams  had  made  her. 


8o     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

"I  couldn't  go  back  without  calling  around  to  see  you 
— and  your  father,"  he  said.  "My,  but  it's  good  to  see  you, 
Nell;  you're  looking  perfectly  fine." 

"I'm  afraid  you're  trying  to  flatter  me,  Charley.  I  know 
I  must  look  a  fright,  for  I  haven't  been  feeling  very  well 
lately — nothing  serious,  just  nerves,  I  guess.  But  never  mind 
about  me.  Tell  me  about  yourself.  What  have  you 
been  doing?  Tell  me  all  about  Chicago  and  the  things  you've 
been  doing  and  the  people  you  know.  I  suppose  you've  met 
lots  of  nice  girls  by  this  time?"  She  paused.  "Not  engaged 
yet,  are  you,  Charley?" 

He  assured  her  in  a  strange,  unnatural  voice  that  he 
was  not. 

"It  won't  be  long,"  she  continued,  "you'll  soon  find  some 
nice  girl  up  there,  I'm  sure." 

"Where  is  'Scads'?"  said  Dawson  suddenly.  "I  expected 
to  find  him  here." 

Her  face  lost  the  look  of  bantering  merriment  and  her 
lip  trembled  a  little. 

"Did  you  want  to  see  him  especially?"  she  asked. 

"No,  of  course  not — "  stammered  Dawson.   "Only — " 

"Well,  suppose  we  don't  speak  of  him,  then." 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


Si 


DAWSON ~'i i  was  mystified.  As  he  sat  with  Nell  Court- 
right  in  the  old  library  of  her  father's  house  his  mind 
was  grappling  with  the  problem  that  her  words  created. 
Why  had  she  asked  him  not  to  speak  of  "Scads,"  to  whom  she 
was  engaged?  Was  the  subject  one  that  she  considered  too 
sacred?  Or  had  she  discovered,  by  some  discerning  instinct 
peculiar  to  the  feminine  mind,  that  he  cared  for  her  and  for 
this  reason  she  wished  to  spare  him  the  pain  of  discussing  a 
subject  that  could  afford  him  only  wretchedness?  One  by 
one  he  marshalled  up  the  evidence  in  the  case,  hopefully  nursing 
the  favourable  signs  and  gloomily  facing  the  ones  that  were  not. 


82  DAWSON  'n— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

Was  "Scads"  in  town?  If  so,  why  was  he  not  here?  This 
question  haunted  him.  It  flashed  through  his  thoughts  over  and 
over  again,  and  yet  he  would  not  allow  himself  to  ask  aloud 
the  simple  question  that  would  settle  it.  She  had  asked  him 
to  refrain  from  mentioning  "Scads";  therefore  he  would  re- 
frain. If  it  was  a  subject  too  sacred  for  him,  very  well.  "Scads" 
could  remain  as  sacred  as  he  blame  pleased,  so  far  as  he  was 
concerned. 

In  the  contemplation  of  these  distracting  thoughts,  so 
fraught  with  grave  importance,  Dawson's  conversation  was  no- 
ticeably vague,  so  vague,  in  fact,  that  at  last  Nell  turned  to 
him  suddenly.  They  had  been  looking  at  an  old  kodak  album. 

"Charley,"  she  said  gravely,  "I'm  afraid  these  old  kodaks 
are  boring  you.  You  haven't  been  listening  to  a  word  I've 
been  saying.  Now,  have  you  ?"  He  began  to  remonstrate,  but 
she  shook  her  head. 

"No,  you  haven't.  Your  thoughts  are  some  place  else. 
I  know.  You've  grown  away  from  the  things  that  used  to 
interest  you  here.  Your  life  in  Chicago,  where  everything 
is  so  big  and  life  is  so  vivid,  has  changed  you,  though  you 
may  not  realise  it.  I'm  perfectly  sure,  this  very  minute,  that 
you're  wishing  you  were  back  there  with  your  new  friends 
who " 

"No,  honestly,  Nell,  I'd  rather  be  here  than  any  place  in 
the " 

" your  new  friends,"  she  continued,  "who  are  so  much 


-FORTUNE  HUNTER  83 

more  attractive  than  we  old-fashioned  country  girls  can  ever 
hope  to  be." 

Dawson  turned  to  her  suddenly.  In  his  honest  eyes  there 
was  a  hungry  look  that  warned  her.  It  was  a  look  in  the  depths 
of  which  she  saw  his  soul  shining  clearly,  and  it  told  her  more 
than  a  thousand  burning  words  could  ever  tell.  She  became 
panicky,  and  began  nervously  twisting  and  untwisting  her  hand- 
kerchief. He  was  so  fearfully  in  earnest. 

"Nell,  will  you  let  me  tell  you  something?"  She  hastily 
arose.  "I  simply  must  before  I  go  away.  Please.  Nell,  just 
this  once.  Then  I'll  go  away  and  not  bother  you  again." 

He  followed  her  to  the  window,  where  she  had  gone  with 
her  handkerchief  pressed  to  her  lips.  She  was  trembling. 

"Listen,  Nell.  Do  you  remember  when  I  left  in  June " 

The  gate  clicked.     Some  one  was  coming. 

"Is  it  'Scads'?"  he  asked  quickly. 

"No,  it's  father."  She  dabbed  at  her  eyes  with  the  little 
crumpled  handkerchief,  and  then  slowly  turned  to  face  him. 
Her  eyes  were  misty  with  a  look  that  he  had  never  seen  there 
before.  Then  a  queer  little  smile  quivered  on  her  lips,  like 
a  ray  of  sunshine  that  shines  through  the  clouds,  and  she  made 
a  brave  attempt  at  levity. 

"Didn't  you  say  you  had  come  to  see  father,  Charley?" 

Dawson  assented,  Imt  his  words  were  contradicted  by  the 
disappointment  in  his  looks. 

The  judge  was  cordial  and  friendly  after  the  dignified 


84     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

manner  of  the  old-school  gentleman.  For  an  instant  Dawson 
construed  this  as  a  favourable  sign,  but  his  second  thought 
told  him  that  the  judge  would  be  cordial  to  any  guest,  no 
matter  whom,  and  that  it  didn't  really  mean  anything  of  a  com- 
forting nature.  The  judge  asked  about  Chicago,  and  was 
politely  interested  in  his  young  friend's  welfare.  The  clock 
struck.  It  was  either  half  past  12  or  i.  Dawson  hastily 
prepared  to  go.  He  had  no  idea  it  was  so  late. 

"Are  you  down  for  long?"  the  judge  was  asking. 

"I  must  go  back  on  the  four  o'clock  train — this  afternoon, 
sir,"  said  Dawson,  and  then  waited  eagerly  for  a  word  that 
might  give  him  hope  of  coming  in  again  before  the  train  left. 
He  waited  in  vain.  There  was  an  awkward  pause — in  which 
Dawson  was  conscious  of  hearing  the  measured  ticking  of  the 
clock. 

"Well,  I  guess  this  is  'good-bye,'  Nell,"  he  said,  hardly 
daring  to  trust  his  voice. 

"Good-bye,  Charley.  Try  to  think  of  your  country  friends 
once  in  awhile — if  you  can."  He  looked  at  her  in  an  injured 
way,  but  the  presence  of  the  judge  prevented  any  violent  re- 
monstrance to  what  he  considered  an  unjust  insinuation. 

As  Dawson  descended  the  steps,  his  ears  burning  with  hu- 
miliation and  wounded  pride,  the  light  had  gone  out  of  the 
day  for  him.  A  hopeless  feeling,  like  homesickness  magnified  a 
thousand  times,  made  him  faint  and  weak.  He  v/as  profoundly 
depressed.  She  had  not  asked  him  to  come  again.  That  meant 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER     85 

only  one  thing,  he  mournfully  reasoned.  "Scads"  was  to  be  with 
her  that  afternoon,  and  there  would  be  no  room  for  outsiders 
to  cumber  up  the  place. 

He  was  fifteen  minutes  late  to  the  Thanksgiving  dinner, 
and,  without  the  ghost  of  an  appetite,  he  silently  plodded 
through  the  gorgeous  feast,  his  mother's  masterpiece.  Many 
times  she  looked  at  him  and  sighed,  but,  though  her  heart  was 
aching  for  him,  she  said  nothing. 

"Poor  boy,"  she  thought;  "I'm  afraid  there's  nothing  that 
I  can  do  to  help  him." 

At  four  o'clock  Dawson  started  back  to  Chicago. 


86     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


IN  the  late  evening  of  Thanksgiving  Day,  Dawson  alighted 
from  the  train  that  had  brought  him  from  his  old  home 
back  to  his  new  one.   He  was  in  Chicago  once  more.    The 
noises  of  the  station,  the  glare  of  lights,  and  the  absence  of  a 
friendly  face  among  all  the  hurrying  people  about  him  made 
him  feel  lonesomer  than  he  had  ever  felt  before  in  his  life. 
Not  a  soul  in  all  these  self-absorbed  crowds  knew  him  or  cared 
what  became  of  him.  The  brilliant  electric  lights  were  cold  and 
impersonal  and  seemed  to  symbolise  the  heartless  indifference 


DAWSON  'i i—  FORTUNE  HUNTER  87 

of  the  great  city.     They  made  Dawson  feel  so  small  and  incon- 
sequential. 

"I'll  never  get  used  to  this  place  if  I  live  here  a  hundred 
years,"  he  thought.  "I  wonder  if  anybody  ever  gets  to  feel  at 
home  here." 

He  ate  his  supper  in  a  restaurant  in  the  station  and  then 
proceeded  to  his  boarding-house.  How  different  it  seemed 
to  him  now,  and  what  a  contrast  it  was  to  the  home  he  had 
just  left!  The  place  was  so  quiet!  Everybody  was  out,  and 
when  he  reached  his  room  he  sank  wearily  in  a  chair  and  aban- 
doned himself  to  tender  melancholy.  The  trip  to  his  home 
and  back  had  left  him  subdued  in  spirit,  and,  try  as  he  would, 
he  could  not  throw  off  the  dull  ache  that  seemed  to  pervade 
him  like  a  physical  illness. 

He  tried  to  analyse  his  emotions.  Why  was  he  feeling 
so  blue?  His  mother  and  father  and  Bud  and  Sis  had  been 
everything  that  his  hungry  heart  had  craved.  The  old  friends 
who  had  greeted  him  in  the  streets  of  his  home  town  had  been 
cordial  and  friendly  and  interested  in  his  welfare.  The  weather 
had  been  perfect.  Why,  then,  should  he  feel  so  depressed  and 
friendless  ?  Was  it  Nell  ?  No,  for  she  had  been  just  as  nice  to 
him  as  he  could  expect  from  a  girl  who  was  engaged  to  some 
one  else ;  in  fact,  she  had  been  far  nicer  than  he  had  any  reason 
to  expect.  .  .  .  Perhaps  that  was  it!  If  she  had  been 
less  cordial  in  the  warmth  of  her  friendliness,  he  could  have 
consoled  himself  by  the  thought  that  she  was  not  really  as 


88  DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

nice  as  he  had  always  believed  her  to  be.  Yes,  that  was  the 
trouble.  She  had  been  too  nice.  She  had  made  him  realise 
how  much  he  was  losing,  how  much  he  cared  for  her,  and  how 
dark  his  future  would  be  without  the  thought  of  her  to  brighten 
it.  Yes,  that  was  it.  That  was  what  made  him  so  wretched 
and  miserable. 

For  an  hour  he  sat  thinking.  What  was  there  now  for 
him  to  live  for  and  to  work  for?  Why  not  plunge  into  the  gay 
seductions  of  the  city  and  seek  forgetfulness  in  the  pleasures 
that  it  held  and  offered  so  freely?  In  the  vivid  excitement  of 
city  gayety  he  would  soon  forget.  And  then,  if  he  became  a 
wreck,  she  would  always  feel  sorry  and  would  blame  herself. 
He  would  be  on  her  conscience,  rendering  her  unhappy  forever- 
more.  Her's  would  be  the  hand  that  had  pushed  him  on  his 
downward  course.  "Poor  Charley  Dawson!"  she  would  sigh; 
"he  might  have  been  a  successful  man  if  it  hadn't  been  for  me. 
It's  all  my  fault  that  he  threw  himself  away  and  went  to  the 
dogs." 

She  would  be  remorseful  and  unhappy.  That  pleased  Daw- 
son  in  his  present  frame  of  mind.  In  his  mind's  eye  he  could 
see  her  sitting  out  by  the  fire  talking  sadly  to  her  father — 
But  no  I  She  wouldn't  be  with  her  father.  She  would  be  with 
"Scads" !  She  and  "Scads"  would  be  pitying  him! 

The  thought  electrified  him!  The  mere  thought  of  Nell 
and  "Scads"  pitying  him  aroused  him  like  a  call  to  battle! 
Would  he  allow  "Scads"  to  pity  him?  Not  much!  He  would 


DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER  89 

sail  in  and  make  a  name  for  himself  that  would  make  them 
sit  up  and  take  notice.  Now  was  the  time  for  him  to  show 
that  he  wasn't  a  quitter,  that  he  had  the  real  stuff  in  him,  and 
that  he  was  strong  enough  to  overcome  disappointment  and  ad- 
versity. That  was  the  test.  He  would  make  good  if  he  had 
to  work  his  blamed  head  off.  Adversity  should  be  the  spur 
that  would  urge  him  on  to  future  prosperity.  He  would  show 
that  he  wasn't  weak  and  that  he  wasn't  a  quitter.  Henceforth 
the  slogan  should  be  "Excelsior,"  with  Victory  as  his  Goal.  He 
would  forget  Nell,  and  put  her  out  of  his  mind  forever.  In 
this  militant  mood  he  retired,  and  tossed  himself  to  sleep. 

That  night  he  dreamed  of  her  nearly  the  whole  night  long. 


DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


DAWSON  'n  faced  the  future  with  a  resolute  heart.    Al- 
though disappointed  in  love  and  with  a  hurt  that  seemed 
beyond  all  hope  of  healing,  he  resolved  not  to  parade  his 
misery  in  the  face  of  an  unsympathetic  world.  People  should  not 
whisper,  when  they  saw  him  stalking  sombrely  through  life,  that 
he  was  nursing  a  great  sorrow,  due  to  an  unrequited  love  affair 
early  in  life.    He  knew  enough  to  realise  that  the  world  loves 
cheerfulness  and  shrinks  from  gloom,  and  although  it  often  has 
to  face  the  latter,  it  prefers  the  former  for  steady  company. 
Therefore  would  he  mask  his  dyspepsia  of  the  soul  under  a 


DAWSON  'i  i—FORTUXE  HUNTER  91 

smiling  face  and  greet  the  world  in  a  sunny-hearted  manner. 
He  would  be  brave!  Dawson,  the  Brave  Heart!  He  rather 
liked  the  sound  of  it,  and  the  more  he  thought  of  it  the  more 
determined  he  was  not  to  become  a  martyr  to  melancholy. 

"To  forget" — that  was  now  his  battle  cry.  With  work 
and  achievement  would  he  woo  forget  fulness ;  in  them  would  he 
find  surcease  of  sorrow  and  tranquillity  of  mind.  Henceforth 
there  should  be  no  sentimental  moonings  to  distract  him,  hence- 
forth he  would  plunge  into  his  work  with  a  whole  heart  and  a 
singleness  of  purpose.  Nothing  should  arise  to  divert  him  from 
the  course  that  he  had  laid  out  for  himself  to  follow;  no  morbid 
fancies  should  fog  the  long  road  that  lay  ahead,  the  road  to 
Honourable  Success.  Upon  that  road  would  he  travel,  swerving 
neither  to  right  nor  left,  ignoring  the  siren  lure  of  quick  suc- 
cess, yet  always  pressing  forward  toward  a  certain  definite  goal, 
conscious  that  success  that  is  built  slowly  and  carefully  is  more 
lasting  than  that  which  comes  in  a  single  bound.  The  reason 
some  men  fail,  he  thought,  is  because  they  work  without  a  def- 
inite ambition  to  guide  them,  and  when  a  man  doesn't  aim  at 
something  he  very  seldom  hits  it.  Work  with  a  definite  pur- 
pose! Therein  lay  his  salvation.  Work,  the  master  which 
sometimes  may  seem  a  cruelly  exacting  one,  but  which  in  the  long 
run  confers  the  most  satisfying  rewards.  Work !  The  solvent 
of  all  sorrows  and  the  bestower  of  the  most  lasting  happiness. 
Dawson  was  fired  with  a  great  ambition.  He  felt  a  soaring 
elation  of  spirit. 


92     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

Like  a  general  who  marshals  up  his  columns  and  ponders 
well  the  forces  pitted  against  him,  he  formulated  his  plan  of 
battle.  First  of  all,  he  reviewed  his  .own  resources  with  cold 
and  unsparing  precision.  He  knew  that  there  were  thousands  of 
young  men  in  exactly  his  own  position,  and  he  knew  that  nine 
hundred  out  of  every  thousand  would  never  arrive.  It  was  up 
to  him  to  decide  whether  he  should  be  in  the  nine  hundred  that 
fail  or  the  one  hundred  that  succeed.  They  all  had  an  even 
start.  Therefore,  why  were  some  to  fail  and  why  were  some  to 
succeed.  He  considered  the  subject  critically. 

First  of  all,  he  took  an  inventory  of  those  qualities  which 
a  man  must  have  who  succeeds.  Health,  honesty,  industry,  and 
intelligence — these  were  the  cardinal  virtues  which  successful 
men  of  all  ages  had  proclaimed  as  the  fundamentals  of  success. 
Of  course,  some  men  had  succeeded  without  health,  but  this  was 
because  they  were  by  natural  endowments  exceptionally  great  or 
exceptionally  strong.  Some  had  succeeded  by  dishonesty,  but 
that  was  only  material  success,  and  not  the  real  kind.  Some  had 
succeeded  without  industry,  but  that  was  accident,  and  some  had 
succeeded  without  much  intelligence,  but  that  was  dogged  de- 
termination and  aggressiveness. 

Dawson  felt  that  he  had  as  fair  a  measure  of  the  cardinal 
elements  of  success  as  most  young  men.  He  had  health,  which 
was  the  corner  stone,  and  which  must  be  preserved  by  all  means 
in  his  power.  Without  health  he  could  not  be  industrious; 
without  a  healthy  body  he  could  not  retain  a  healthy  mifid,  and 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER     93 

without  a  healthy  mind  he  could  not  hope  to  be  honest  or  to  use 
to  the  greatest  advantage  what  natural  intelligence  he  had. 

He  also  felt  that  he  was  of  a  naturally  buoyant  nature,  due 
perhaps  to  a  healthy  body — therefore  he  should  allow  no  excess 
or  indulgence  to  jaundice  the  one  or  weaken  the  other.  He  re- 
solved not  to  drink — at  least  not  during  the  first  ten  years  dur- 
ing which  he  was  to  lay  the  foundations  of  his  life  and  character. 
He  reflected  that  while  many  successful  men  drink,  they  had 
succeeded  in  spite  of  it  rather  than  because  of  it.  No  man  that 
he  had  ever  heard  of  had  succeeded  because  he  drank.  There- 
fore as  a  cold-blooded  business  proposition  he  would  not  assume 
a  habit  which  is  never  a  help  and  is  very  often  a  serious  handi- 
cap. While  it  might  not  hurt  him,  it  certainly  would  not  help 
him,  and  he  was  now  determining  the  things  that  would  defi- 
nitely help  him.  Let  the  other  young  men  drink  if  they  wished. 
He  would  not  presume  to  preach  to  them,  for  that  was  their  own 
lookout;  yet  he  felt  that  by  not  drinking  he  stood  a  greater 
chance  of  being  in  the  one  hundred  who  succeed  rather  than  the 
nine  hundred  who  fail.  As  a  hygienic  and  business  measure  he 
resolved  not  to  burden  himself  with  a  habit  that  he  could  get 
along  without,  and  if  he  couldn't  get  along  without  it  he  might 
as  well  drop  out  of  the  race  at  once.  It  would  be  a  confession 
of  lack  of  character  and  strength  of  purpose.  Also,  from  the 
economic  standpoint,  it  was  a  habit  that  cost  money  that  he 
thought  could  be  spent  to  much  greater  advantage  for  things 
more  essential  to  his  advancement. 


94     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

As  to  the  other  two  elements  considered  essential  to  suc- 
cess— honesty  and  industry — Dawson  felt  that  he  was  pretty 
well  equipped.  He  was  certain  that  he  would  work  his  head 
off  in  order  to  succeed.  As  to  honesty,  he  was  certain  that 
he  was  honest. 

Dawson,  however,  had  never  yet  encountered  a  really 
strong  temptation, 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


95 


DEAR    MOTHER:    The   Weather    Man   has   certainly 
been  behaving  something  scandalous  up  here  for  a  week 
or  two.     I'm  afraid  his  New  Year's  resolutions  haven't 
agreed  with  him.    It's  been  as  cold  as  the  sheets  in  Aunt  Em- 
ma's spare  bedroom,  and  if  there's  anything  colder  than  that 
I'd  like  to  have  Robert  E.  Peary  try  to  prove  it.    That  room 
was  the  headquarters  of  Winter.     There  was  more  fresh  air 


96     DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

to  the  square  foot  in  there  than  any  place  this  side  of  latitude 
86,  and  I  shiver  even  now  every  time  I  accidentally  think 
of  it.  Whenever  I  slept  there  I  used  to  sit  up  so  late  in  the 
warm  sitting-room  that  they  finally  had  to  drive  me  up  to  bed, 
and  when  I  struck  the  icy  sheets  I  would  utter  one  agonised 
yell,  and  then  try  to  catch  my  breath  for  ten  minutes  while 
I  warmed  up  a  little  patch  in  the  shape  of  a  letter  Z.  Probably 
that  room  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  I  always  think  that  the 
old-fashioned  winters  used  to  be  so  much  colder  than  the  mod- 
ern steam-heated  ones.  There's  one  compliment  I  can  sincerely 
pay  to  cold  weather,  though.  It  certainly  makes  you  feel  like 
working,  and  consequently  I  have  been  doing  some  tall  hustling 
at  the  scene  of  my  daily  toil.  So  it's  an  ill  Winter  that  works 
no  good. 

I  wish  you  knew  some  of  the  boys  up  here;  I'm  sure 
you  would  like  them  very  much.  They  are  a  lot  of  mighty 
clean  young  fellows,  and  they  have  certainly  been  awfully  good 
to  son  Charley.  A  big  firm  like  this  is  like  a  little  world  all 
in  itself,  and  the  amount  of  office  news  and  gossip  that  flies 
around  is  amazing.  If  the  manager  has  an  attack  of  indiges- 
tion, the  whole  office  knows  it  and  comments  on  it  before  10 
A.  M.  Most  of  the  gossip  is  good-natured,  but,  of  course,  in 
a  big  place  like  this,  there  is  naturally  more  or  less  knocking 
and  intriguing,  some  from  the  chronic  grouches,  and  some 
from  those  who  are  constitutional  trouble  makers.  I'm  keeping 
out  of  all  this  office  politics,  and  am  sticking  to  my  knitting 


DAWSON  'i i— FORTUNE  HUNTER     97 

as  closely  as  I  can.  The  work  is  tremendously  interesting  if  you 
want  to  make  it  so,  and  I'm  trying  to  learn  as  much  about  the 
business  as  I  possibly  can.  I've  read  all  the  books  in  the  office 
library,  and  several  that  relate  to  our  business  and  the  markets 
covered  by  our  business  which  I  got  from  the  public  library. 
Even  if  it  doesn't  help  very  much,  I  figure  that  it  can't  hurt 
any  to  be  up  on  this  end  of  the  work.  Some  day  some  one 
may  want  to  know  how  many  tons  a  year  the  Argentine  Repub- 
lic uses,  or  why  German  shippers  are  cutting  into  American 
markets  in  China,  and  I'll  be  there  with  the  information. 

This  last  week  there  has  been  quite  a  little  excitement  in 
the  office.  One  of  the  young  fellows,  an  awfully  keen  young 
chap  named  Weller,  was  discharged  on  account  of  some  irregu- 
larities in  his  work.  He  was  the  requisition  clerk,  and  had  to 
get  bids  from  various  firms  for  all  the  materials  and  supplies 
used  in  the  Chicago  end  of  our  concern.  I  don't  know  exactly 
what  the  trouble  was,  because  there  are  all  sorts  of  stories  float- 
ing around.  At  any  rate  he  was  let  out,  and  there  are  a  lot 
of  the  boys  feverishly  manoeuvring  to  get  the  job.  Everybody 
with  a  pull  is  sitting  up  nights  burning  the  lamp  of  hope.  I  was 
sorry  to  see  young  Weller  go,  because  he  was  a  popular  fellow, 
and  a  great  mixer  with  the  people  around  the  office  as  well  as 
with  the  salesmen  and  solicitors  that  sell  goods  to  our  firm. 

I  now  hear  the  dulcet  notes  of  friend  Morpheus  calling, 
and  I  have  serious  intentions  of  adjourning  to  the  land  of 
dreams  for  a  welcome  sojourn  of  about  eight  hours. 


98  DAWSON  'i i—  FORTUNE  HUNTER 

I  hope  this  weather  hasn't  affected  you,  and  that  you  are 
feeling  as  well  as 

Your  affectionate  son, 

CHARLEY. 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


99 


DEAR  MOTHER:  Things  certainly  are  stirred  up  in  the 
office  these  days,  and  all  on  account  of  the  vacancy  in 
the  job  of  requisition  clerk.    Every  fellow  with  a  pull  is 
exerting  his  influence  to  beat  the  band,  and  the  gossip  and  dis- 
cussion that  you  hear  in  my  stratum  at  the  office  is  something 
coslosterous,  to  say  the  least.     The  Presidential  nominations 
can't  hold  a  candle  to  the  excitement  that  rages  about  the  va- 
cant job  in  the  great  house  of  Morrill  &  Co.     I'm  expecting 
to  see  torch-light  processions  marching  through  the  office,  with 


ioo         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

stump  speakers  standing  on  every  desk.  The  favourite  in  the 
race  seems  to  be  a  young  fellow  named  Ellwood.  He's  been 
in  the  office  for  three  years  and  is  considered  the  brightest  one 
of  the  bunch  of  aspirants.  The  only  thing  against  him  is  the 
fact  that  about  once  every  three  months  he  gets  slightly  "lit  up," 
and  sometimes  shows  up  at  the  office  looking  rather  frazzled 
about  the  nerves.  In  spite  of  this  he  is  clever  and  capable  and 
is  considered  a  valuable  man  in  the  force.  I'd  like  to  see  him 
land  the  job,  for  probably  the  increased  responsibility  would 
steady  him  down,  and  he'd  cut  out  his  occasional  leaps  from 
the  water  wagon.  He's  really  a  very  nice  fellow. 

Some  of  the  boys  think  the  place  will  go  to  a  young  chap 
named  Vosburg,  a  perfect  wonder  of  efficiency  in  matters  of 
detail.  He  is  not  particularly  popular  because  he  is  inclined 
to  be  grouchy,  and  somewhat  ill-tempered  once  in  a  while,  but 
we  all  have  to  admit  his  ability  and  thoroughness.  He's  straight 
as  a  string,  and  a  great  student,  but  I  can't  help  wishing  he 
didn't  have  these  grouchy  spells.  Perhaps  if  he  gets  a  boost 
he  will  be  more  cheerful.  Then  there  are  two  or  three  others 
that  seem  to  be  considered  in  the  running  more  or  less,  but 
Ellwood  and  Vosburg  undoubtedly  have  the  inside  track,  ac- 
cording to  office  gossip.  The  job  pays  thirty  a  week,  and,  of 
course,  it's  a  grand  prize. 

The  weather  up  here  has  been  causing  much  talk  of  a  de- 
rogatory nature  and  I  am  pleased  to  chronicle  that  I  have  added 
a  few  words  towards  swelling  the  volume  of  talk.  A  lot  of  men 


DAWSON  'i i— FORTUNE  HUNTER         101 

are  out  of  work,  and  I  shudder  to  think  what  their  families 
must  be  suffering  these  cold  days.  Last  pay  day  I  selected 
three  large  able-bodied  dollars  from  my  salary,  and  ordered 
them  out  to  the  relief  of  the  suffering.  Some  place  in  this 
great  city  those  three  valiant  heroes  are  working  hard,  and  while 
they  may  not  look  so  big  as  viewed  from  above, 
they  certainly  look  big  as  viewed  from  below.  I  know  from 
experience. 

Last  summer  when  I  was  trying  to  woo  a  smile  from 
Dame  Fortune,  I  met  face  to  face  certain  unforgettable  mo- 
ments when  a  dollar  looked  as  big  as  the  Ferris  wheel,  but  that 
was  summer,  and  nature  at  least  was  kind,  even  if  fortune  was 
not.  I  certainly  can  sympathise  with  anybody  who  is  up  against 
it,  especially  during  weather  when  you  can't  sleep  in  the 
park. 

Even  in  our  boarding-house  we  have  had  one  pretty  sad 
case  in  the  last  two  weeks.  One  of  the  boarders,  a  young 
lady  who  works  downtown,  got  sick  after  the  Christmas  rush, 
and  some  of  the  rest  of  us  are  contributing  a  little  each  week 
to  help  her  while  she  is  laid  up.  She  got  only  six  a  week,  and 
I  guess  it  wasn't  enough  for  carfare  and  food,  and  as  she  had 
to  have  carfare,  I  fear  she  had  to  go  light  on  her  lunches. 
She's  picking  up  slowly  and  we're  having  a  hard  job  trying  to 
keep  her  from  starting  back  to  work  before  she  gets  strong. 
She's  very  nice,  and  they  say  she  comes  from  down  in  the 
country  some  place.  I  feel  awfully  sorry  for  her. 


102         DAWSON  'n— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

Well,  now  yours  truly  must  repair  to  the  feathers.  If  I 
catch  cold  I'll  take  care  of  it  as  you  request.  In  the  mean- 
time, scatter  my  love  lavishly  around  the  old  homestead,  and 
with  loads  of  it  to  you,  I  am, 

Yours  affectionately, 

CHARLEY. 

The  next  day  when  Dawson  '  1 1  returned  from  luncheon 
he  found  a  telegram  and  a  note  on  his  desk. 

The  note  was  on  Mr.  Merrill's  private  stationery,  but 
Dawson  opened  the  telegram  first.  "Can  you  meet  me  4:30 
train,  Polk  Street,  this  afternoon?  N.  C."  Great  Scott!  It 
was  from  Nell !  Half  bewildered,  he  mechanically  opened  the 
note.  "Mr.  Morrill  wishes  to  see  you  at  4 130  this  afternoon." 


DAVVSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER         103 


~T\  AWSON  '  1 1  was  face  to  face  with  a  real  crisis.  When  he 
••-^  read  Nell  Courtright's  telegram  asking  him  to  meet  her 
on  the  4.30  train,  he  was  first  amazed  and  then  per- 
plexed. What  in  the  world  could  it  mean?  Why  should  she 
telegraph  him  to  meet  her  while  "Scads"  was  in  town?  Was 
it  merely  the  friendly  act  of  a  girl  acting  upon  the  impulse 
of  the  moment;  or  did  the  telegram  indicate  a  serious  situa- 
tion in  which  she  wished  his  advice  or  help?  Well,  he  soon 
should  know,  for  the  train  would  arrive  at  4 130,  and  he  would 
be  there  to  meet  it. 

Then  he  opened  the  formal  note  in  which  he  was  asked 
to  report  to  the  head  of  the  firm,  Mr.  Morrill,  in  the  latter's 
office  at  4:30.  For  a  moment  the  fact  that  the  hours  were 


io4         DAWSON  'i  i—  FORTUNE  HUNTER 

the  same  did  not  strike  him,  but  when  it  did,  it  struck  him  with 
staggering  force.  He  sank  limply  into  his  chair. 

"Great  guns!"  he  thought.  "Here's  a  lovely  complica- 
tion. Both  at  4 130,  and  I've  simply  got  to  report  to  the  boss. 
There  are  no  two  ways  about  that!  If  I  sent  word  that  I 
couldn't  see  him  because  I  had  to  meet  a  girl,  it  would  be 
all  up  with  me.  He'd  probably  think  I  was  meeting  girls 
during  office  hours  every  day,  and  I'd  never  get  a  chance  to 
explain  the  exceptional  nature  of  this  particular  case.  No,  I've 
simply  got  to  see  him.  It's  his  time,  and  he's  paying  me  for 
it,  and  he  has  the  first  call  on  it.  But  how  about  Nell  ?  What 
will  she  think  if  I  fail  her  in  the  first  thing  she  has  ever  asked 
me  to  do?  She'll  be  sure  to  feel  hurt  and  humiliated  for  having 
exposed  herself  to  my  indifference  and  will  certainly  never  give 
me  another  chance  to  see  her  while  she's  in  town.  If  I  don't 
meet  her  I  won't  even  know  where  she's  stopping."  His  brow 
wrinkled  in  perplexity  as  he  solemnly  contemplated  the  note 
and  the  telegram. 

"What's  the  matter,  Dawson?  No  bad  news,  I  hope?" 
It  was  Ellwood,  the  young  fellow  who  was  considered  likely 
to  get  the  appointment  as  the  new  requisition  clerk.  Dawson 
gloomily  pointed  to  the  two  communications.  As  Ellwood 
read  the  note  from  Mr.  Morrill  his  lips  tightened  almost  im- 
perceptibly, as  though  an  unwelcome  thought  had  struck  him. 
Then  he  laughed  pleasantly  and  slapped  Dawson  on  the  back. 

"Don't  let  a  little  thing  like  that  worry  you.    Tell  the  man- 


DAWSON  'i  i— FORTUNE  HUNTER         105 

ager  you've  got  a  splitting  toothache  and  have  to  see  the  dentist. 
The  manager  will  square  it  with  the  boss,  you  can  meet  your 
young  kdy  and  see  the  hoss  to-morrow  morning." 

Dawson  looked  up  sharply  at  these  words,  and  there  was 
something  in  his  look  that  made  Ellwood  flush  and  hastily 
continue  in  a  different  strain. 

"Or,  better  still,"  he  said,  "don't  beat  about  the  bush,  but 
go  straight  to  the  boss,  and  tell  him  exactly  the  situation.  He'll 
advise  you  to  meet  the  train  because  it  may  be  an  urgent 
matter." 

"No,"  said  Dawson,  "I'm  afraid  I  can't  do  that.  If  I 
were  in  the  habit  of  seeing  the  boss  frequently  I  shouldn't 
hesitate  to  put  it  up  to  him  squarely,  but  as  this  is  only  the 
second  time  he's  ever  asked  me  to  come  in,  I  don't  believe 
he'd  like  it  if  I  tried  to  beg  off." 

"Well,"  resumed  Ellwood  thoughtfully,  "how  about  this? 
Get  a  time-table  and  telegraph  her  on  the  train  and  explain 
why  you  can't  meet  her.  Ask  her  to  wait  at  the  station  for  a 
half  hour,  and  you  can  go  there  after  your  conference." 

"I  might  telegraph  her,  but  I  couldn't  be  sure  that  the 
telegram  would  reach  her.  And,  of  course,  this  would  be 
the  one  time  of  all  times  that  it  would  slip  up.  Besides,  I 
don't  like  to  ask  her  to  wait  at  the  station,  for  there  may  be 
others  who  will  also  meet  her.  She  has  another  friend  up 
here,  and  if  he  meets  her  she  wouldn't  be  likely  to  keep  him 
sitting  around  the  station  waiting  for  some  other  man.  Of 


io6         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

course,  if  I  were  sure  no  one  else  was  to  meet  her,  that  plan 
would  be  good,  but  then  there  would  always  be  the  uncertainty 
of  the  telegram  reaching  her."  He  brightened  up  as  a  new 
thought  struck  him.  "How  would  it  do  to  have  some  one  else 
meet  her  when  she  arrives?  I  could  explain  everything  in  a 
note  and  ask  her  to  let  me  know  where  I  can  see  her  this 
evening.  That's  what  I'll  do.  I'll  send  the  telegram,  and  also 
send  some  one  to  meet  her.  It  will  be  perfectly  easy  to  identify 
her,  for  she'll  be  the  prettiest  girl  on  the  train,  fair  hair,  blue 
eyes,  black  furs,  medium  height,  with  N.  C.  on  her  suitcase. 
A  messenger  couldn't  miss  her." 

"Well,  good  luck,  Dawson.  I  hope  it  works  out  all  right, 
and  that  all  ends  happily.  You  can  get  one  of  the  boys  in 
the  mailing  room  to  go  to  the  train.  Their  work  is  prac- 
tically over  by  four  o'clock. 

Dawson  thanked  him  warmly,  and  at  once  set  in  motion 
the  machinery  that  was  supposed  to  meet  the  crisis.  He  found 
that  the  train  was  likely  to  arrive  on  time,  as  it  usually  did,  ex- 
cepting during  heavy  snow  falls.  So  he  sent  a  telegram,  which 
he  hoped  would  catch  the  train  at  a  certain  station.  Then  he 
got  one  of  the  mail  clerks,  and  arranged  for  him  to  meet 
the  train  and  give  a  note  to  a  certain  young  lady,  fully  de- 
scribed in  minute  detail,  and  received  an  emphatic  assurance 
that  it  was  as  good  as  already  done. 

"You  can  depend  upon  me,"  said  the  mail  clerk,  holding 
a  prophetic  finger  in  the  air.  Dawson  noticed  with  some  mis- 


DAWSON  'i i— FORTUNE  HUNTER          107 

giving  that  the  finger  was  yellow  with  cigarette  smoke,  and 
that  it  shook  nervously. 

Lastly,  Dawson  overcame  his  pride  sufficiently  to  call  up 
"Scads"  Allcott  at  the  latter's  home.  A  cold,  impersonal  voice 
told  him  that  Mr.  Allcott  had  not  been  there  for  two  nights, 
and  that  he  probably  was  out  of  town. 

"Probably  with  Nell,"  thought  Dawson  gloomily.  "But 
if  so,  why  the  telegram  ?  It's  too  much  for  me.  I  can't  figure 
it  out." 

At  4:29  Dawson  presented  himself  to  Mr.  Merrill's  secre- 
tary, and  his  name  was  sent  in  to  the  august  master  of  the 
great  house  of  Merrill  &  Co.  A  moment  later  a  buzzer 
sounded,  and  Dawson  was  directed  into  the  holy  of  holies. 


io8         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


TX  7"HEN  Dawson  'i  i  entered  the  private  office  of  Mr.Mor- 
'  *  rill  he  was  conscious  of  a  sudden  sense  of  depression. 
Why  did  Mr.  Morrill  want  to  see  him?  For  the  first 
time  the  thought  struck  him  that  perhaps  the  interview  was  not 
to  be  a  pleasant  one;  that  perhaps  his  work  had  been  unsatisfac- 
tory, and  that  the  great  house  of  Morrill  &  Co.  had  decided  to 
worry  along  without  him.  The  sense  of  depression  became 
a  panic  within  him,  and  in  the  brief  moment  that  he  stood 
waiting  to  be  recognised  he  felt  his  hopes  tottering,  and  saw 
his  bright  air  castles  dissolving  in  sombre  clouds.  Mr.  Mer- 
rill's note  had  given  no  indication  of  the  purpose  of  the  inter- 
view, and  his  back,  as  he  bent  over  his  desk,  struck  Dawson 
as  being  ominously  rigid. 

Without  looking  up  he  motioned  Dawson  to  a  seat  and 


DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER    109 

continued  writing.  Letter  after  letter  was  signed,  deliberately 
blotted,  and  very  deliberately  laid  to  one  side.  The  silence  be- 
came oppressive,  and  the  formal  richness  of  the  room  grew  more 
formal  and  unfriendly.  Each  tick  of  the  little  clock  on  Mr.  Mor- 
rill's  desk  smote  Dawson  with  uncomfortable  misgivings.  It  was 
now  4:40,  and  Nell  had  probably  arrived,  and  was  reading  the 
note  which  the  clerk  from  the  mailing  room  had  taken  to 
the  station.  He  tried  to  picture  her  face  as  she  read  it, 
and  hoped  that  it  would  reflect  sympathetic  understanding, 
rather  than  wounded  pride  and  disappointment.  For  a  moment 
the  grim  irony  of  the  situation  struck  him.  What  a 
tragedy  it  would  be  if  he  had  missed  meeting  her  merely  to 
keep  an  appointment  with  a  boss  who  was  going  to  discharge 
him! 

"Well,  young  man."  Mr.  Morrill  had  leaned  far  back  in 
his  chair,  and  was  teetering  back  and  forth  as  he  wiped  his 
glasses.  An  unmistakable  twinkle  was  in  his  eye,  and  at  the 
sight  of  it  Dawson's  spirits  shot  up  from  the  depths  like  a 
rocket  that  leaps  to  the  freedom  of  the  heights  above.  His  face 
became  radiant  with  sudden  relief,  and  the  change  in  expression 
was  so  spectacularly  abrupt  that  even  Mr.  Morrill  noted  it 
with  mild  amazement  and  wondered  at  it. 

"You  seem  to  be  in  very  good  humour,  young  man — better 
than  when  you  were  last  in  here." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Let's  see.     Upon  that  last  occasion,  if  I  remember  cor- 


no    DAWSON  'n— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

rectly,  you  told  me  that  I  and  my  firm  could  go  to  thunder, 
didn't  you  ?" 

Dawson  smiled  a  faint  admission  to  the  charge,  noting  in 
the  meantime  that  the  "old  man"  was  beaming  amiably  at 
the  recollection  of  the  last  interview.  There  was  sunshine  in 
Dawson's  heart. 

"Now,  Mr.  Dawson,  I  suppose  you  are  a  busy  man,  so  I 
won't  take  much  of  your  time.  You  naturally  want  to  know 
why  I've  called  you  in  to  see  me.  Very  briefly,  it's  this: 
There  is  a  vacancy  in  the  place  of  requisition  clerk,  and  I've 
decided  to  give  you  a  chance  at  it."  Dawson  was  amazed. 
He  hadn't  dreamed  that  he  was  even  being  considered.  Ell- 
wood  had  seemed  so  sure  of  it,  or,  rather,  the  office  was  so  sure 
that  Ellwood  would  get  it.  In  spite  of  his  exaltation  of  spirits, 
he  was  conscious  of  sympathy  for  Ellwood,  and  regretted  that 
his  own  triumph  must  cost  some  one  else  unhappiness  and  dis- 
appointment. 

"Our  last  man,"  continued  Mr.  Morrill,  "turned  out  badly. 
He  couldn't  stand  prosperity.  We  shall  soon  see  how  you  will 
stand  it.  The  position  you  will  have,  like  that  of  purchasing 
agent,  is  one  that  offers  certain  temptations,  and  you  will  have 
many  opportunities  to  show  whether  you  can  resist  these 
attractive  temptations.  Salesmen  and  agents  who  wish  to 
sell  supplies  to  the  firm  will  try  to  make  it  worth  while 
to  you  to  favour  their  own  goods;  you  will  be  offered 
courtesies  in  the  form  of  theatre  tickets  and  presents,  all 


DAWSON  ' 1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER    in 

of  which  are  forms  of  bribery,  and  are  meant  as  such.  Every 
cent  a  salesman  spends  on  you  will  ultimately  be  paid  by  our 
firm,  either  in  higher  prices  paid  for  supplies  or  in  the  in- 
feriority of  supplies  bought.  If  you  accept  these  favours  you  will 
have  to  reciprocate  by  giving  orders  for  goods.  This  is  a 
form  of  bribery  that  is  very  common,  but  it  is  just  as  much 
bribery  as  though  you  were  given  actual  cash.  The  only  dif- 
ference is  that  it  is  slightly  disguised  in  the  form  of  Christmas 
presents,  or  loans,  or  other  convenient  mediums.  Now,  it's  up  to 
you,  young  man.  You  have  the  two  courses  to  follow.  Either 
you  will  yield  to  these  temptations,  as  our  last  man  did,  or 
you  will  resist  them.  Your  salary  will  be  $30  a  week,  and  I 
hope  you  will  make  good.  I  merely  wanted  to  let  you  know 
what  you  will  be  up  against,  and  let  you  work  out  your  own 
salvation." 

Dawson  was  very  serious  during  this  speech.  In  a  gen- 
eral way  he  knew  of  the  insidious  methods  which  are  used 
to  influence  men  in  such  positions  as  he  was  to  occupy,  and 
he  further  knew  that  the  difference  between  bribery  of  this 
sort  and  friendly  courtesy  was  very  narrowly  defined.  Yet 
he  felt  that  he  could  differentiate  between  them,  and  he  longed 
for  the  test  that  should  prove  his  ability  to  rise  above  all  these 
forms  of  bribery  in  disguise.  He  believed  that  he  would  be 
strong  enough  to  make  his  business  success  conform  to  his  ideals, 
and  not  suffer  his  ideals  to  conform  to  his  business  success. 

"I'll  do  my  best,  Mr.  Morrill,  and  I  thank  you  ever  so 


1 12    DAWSON  'ii—  FORTUNE  HUNTER 

much  for  giving  me  the  opportunity.  I  may  fall  down,  but 
it  won't  be  because  I  haven't  tried.  You  never  know  what 
you  can  do  till  you  try."  Unconsciously  Dawson  had  expressed 
in  words  a  phrase  which  he  was  destined  to  repeat  often  in 
after  life,  and  to  which  in  a  large  measure  he  was  to  owe  his 
success.  He  never  conceded  that  he  couldn't  do  a  thing  before 
he  tried  to  do  it. 

When  Dawson  left  the  private  office  of  Mr.  Morrill  it  was 
after  five  o'clock.  His  face  was  sobered  by  the  serious  respon- 
sibilities ahead  of  him,  and  to  Ellwood,  who  glanced  sharply 
at  him  as  he  passed,  it  revealed  nothing  conclusive.  Dawson 
might  have  been  coming  from  a  funeral,  so  serious  was  his 
demeanor,  and  it  was  not  until  he  approached  his  desk  that  his 
face  suddenly  flamed  with  radiance. 

There  sat  the  mailing  clerk,  grinning  and  waving  aloft  a 
letter.  "It  must  be  from  Nell!"  thought  Dawson  as  he  fairly 
rushed  forward  to  seize  it.  But  the  mailing  clerk  hastily  with- 
drew it  behind  his  back,  and  was  shaking  an  unsteady  finger  at 
him. 

"Promise  me  you'll  not  get  sore,"  he  said. 

"Certainly  not,"  answered  Dawson.  "Hurry  up;  give  me 
the  note."  The  mailing  clerk  handed  forth  the  note,  and 
then  burst  into  a  loud  laugh.  It  was  the  note  that  Dawson 
had  written.  It  had  not  been  delivered. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  exclaimed  Dawson  impatiently. 

"What  does  it  mean?"  answered  the  clerk,   controlling 


DAWSON  'i  i— FORTUNE  HUNTER         113 

his  mirth.  "Why  it  means  that  Willie  fell  down  on  his  job. 
That's  all  it  means.  I  was  at  the  station  five  minutes  before 
train  time,  and  they  said  the  train  was  five  minutes  late.  So 
I  thought  I  would  have  time  to  go  across  the  street  for  a 
minute,  and  when  I  came  back  the  darned  old  train  had  come 
in  and  the  platform  was  empty.  Not  a  girl  in  sight.  Awful 
sorry,  old  man ;  but  mistakes  will  happen,  you  know." 

Dawson  thanked  him,  and  the  clerk,  grinning  broadly 
about  him,  weaved  his  way  slowly  toward  the  door. 

"That's  the  type  of  man,"  thought  Dawson  bitterly,  "who 
never  will  amount  to  anything.  If  he  falls  down  on  a  little 
thing  like  that,  he  will  fall  down  in  everything  else  he  tackles." 

In  the  meantime,  where  in  the  world  was  Nell  ? 


n4    DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


BEFORE  Dawson  'n  went  to  his  room  that  night  he 
'  had  exhausted  every  means  in  his  power  to  find  where 
Nell  Courtright  had  gone  after  her  arrival  in  Chicago. 
He  telephoned  "Scads"  Allcott,  but  the  same  impersonal  voice 
informed  him  that  Mr.  Allcott  had  not  yet  returned,  that  he 
was  probably  out  of  town,  as  he  had  taken  a  suitcase  with 
him.  Dawson  got  a  grain  of  comfort  from  this  information, 
for  it  was  evident  that  "Scads"  was  not  expecting  Nell,  or  he 
would  be  in  town.  Unless — Dawson  turned  cold  at  the  thought 
— unless  he  was  with  Nell,  and  had  come  to  Chicago  with 
her.  But  if  so,  why  should  Nell  have  telegraphed  Dawson 
to  meet  her?  Surely  not  to  act  as —  No,  the  idea  was  pre- 
posterous— that  would  be  a  crowning  piece  of  cruelty  which 
neither  Nell  would  tolerate  nor  "Scads"  dare  to  ask.  No,  she 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER         115 

must  have  come  alone,  and  furthermore,  she  did  not  expect  to 
see  "Scads,"  or  she  wouldn't  have  telegraphed  to  him — Dawson. 

He  telephoned  to  the  hotels  where,  in  an  emergency,  Nell 
might  have  gone,  but  no  guest  of  that  name  had  been  regis- 
tered. 

He  also  considered  telegraphing,  or  even  telephoning,  to 
Judge  Courtright,  but  decided  not  to  do  so.  It  would  be  hard 
to  explain  over  the  telephone  how  urgent  were  the  reasons 
why  he  had  failed  to  meet  Nell  after  she  had  telegraphed  him 
to  meet  her.  The  old  judge  was  proud,  and  he  would  bitterly 
resent  what  he  might  consider  a  slight  to  his  daughter:  or.  if  he 
didn't  resent  it,  he  would  probably  say  that  if  Miss  Courtright 
wished  very  much  to  see  Mr.  Dawson,  she  would  probably 
telephone  him  herself.  No,  he  couldn't  ask  Judge  Courtright 
for  her  address.  It  was  not  that  he  was  afraid  of  exposing 
himself  to  humiliation — he  would  gladly  have  exposed  himself 
to  anything  for  her — but  he  reflected  that  such  a  course  was 
unlikely  to  produce  the  result  he  wanted. 

When  he  went  to  bed  that  night  he  tossed  about  for  an 
hour,  racking  his  brain  for  some  means  of  locating  Nell  at 
once,  and  at  last,  unable  to  sleep  and  unwilling  to  try  without 
having  done  everything  possible,  he  got  up  and  wrote  a  letter 
to  her,  addressed  to  her  home  with  the  request  on  the  en- 
velope that  it  be  forwarded  to  her.  He  mailed  it  so  that  it 
would  catch  the  last  collection,  and  then,  feeling  that  he  at  least 
had  done  something,  he  went  to  bed  again. 


n6    DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

When  Dawson  arrived  at  the  office  of  Morrill  &  Co:  the 
following  morning  he  was  surprised  to  find  that  the  news  of 
his  promotion  already  had  spread  among  the  office  force. 

"We  had  it  all  'doped'  out  that  Ellwood  or  Vosburg 
would  get  the  job,"  said  one  of  the  boys,  "but  Vosburg's 
chronic  grouch  was  against  him,  and  the  fact  that  Ellwood 
once  in  a  while  gets  'lit  up'  was  just  enough  to  turn  the  scales 
against  him." 

By  nine  o'clock  Dawson  had  been  transferred  to  his  new 
quarters  in  a  little  fenced-off  enclosure  near  the  office  of  the 
purchasing  agent.  By  ten  o'clock  two  salesmen  had  called,  and 
at  eleven  a  pleasant,  middle-aged  man,  well  dressed,  and  with 
good  nature  brimming  over  in  his  twinkling  eyes,  dropped  in  a 
chair  near  Dawson's  desk  and  presented  his  card. 

"Well,  my  boy,  I  see  you've  got  Weller's  job,  and  I  wish 
you  good  luck  in  it.  I  think  I  can  see  that  you're  going 
to  make  good."  His  manner  was  most  friendly  and  cordial. 
"From  this  little  piece  of  literature,"  he  said,  pointing  to  his 
card,  "you  will  see  that  my  name  is  James  Garvin  of  the  Titanic 
Stationery  Company.  If  you  ever  want  to  stock  up  on  some 
of  the  best  stationery  in  the  world,  just  remember  I  am  the 
party  to  order  it  from." 

"Well,  Mr.  Garvin,  I'm  pretty  new  on  the  job,"  answered 
Dawson,  "but  when  we  need  any  stationery,  I'm  sure  yours  will 
get  proper  consideration." 

"That's  all  I  want,  my  boy.     My  goods  will  take  care 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER         117 

of  themselves  in  any  competition.  Only  please  remember  the 
name  and  address.  Your  house  has  not  bought  any  paper  from 
us — at  least  not  for  some  time — and  I  want  to  get  our  line 
in  here  again."  Mr.  Garvin  arose  and  shook  hands,  and  was 
just  on  the  point  of  going  when  a  note  was  laid  on  Dawson's 
desk.  Dawson  stared  at  it — electrified.  His  head  swam!  It 
was  in  Nell's  writing!  He  forgot  Garvin,  and  the  office,  and 
stationery  in  the  tumult  of  excitement  that  overwhelmed  him. 

With  trembling  hands  he  opened  the  note,  dreading  the 
possibility  that  it  might  be  full  of  reproaches  or  else  couched 
in  the  formal  terms  that  meant  an  end  to  all  his  hopes. 

"Dear  Charley:  I  was  sorry  you  could  not  have  met  me 
yesterday  afternoon,  but  your  telegram  reached  me  on  the 
train,  so  I  was  not  expecting  you.  I  came  up  to  see  about 
some  costumes  for  the  play  that  the  Dramatic  Club  is  giving  for 
charity  in  May — somebody  had  to  come,  and  so  I  volunteered, 
thinking  that  I  could  arrange  it  all  yesterday,  and  take  the 
evening  train  home.  That  is  why  I  telegraphed  you.  I  thought 
perhaps  you,  being  such  a  confirmed  city  man  by  this  time, 
could  tell  me  where  to  go,  and  might  perhaps  help  me  a  little 
in  seeing  about  the  costumes.  I  know  you  must  be  very  busy, 
but  if  you  have  time,  won't  you  please  telephone  me — Edge- 
water  9709 — and  give  me  the  address  of  some  good  costumer? 
I  shall  appreciate  it  so  much. 

"Sincerely  your  friend, 

"NELL." 


n8    DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

Not  a  word  of  reproach!  Not  a  syllable  of  wounded 
pride !  Dawson  loved  her  more  that  minute  than  he  ever  had 
before.  A  tremendous  load  was  raised  from  him  and  his  face 
was  radiant  with  relief  and  happiness. 

Mr.  Garvin  had  resumed  his  seat  when  the  note  arrived, 
and  narrowly  watched  Dawson's  face  as  the  latter  read  it. 
He  shrewdly  surmised  that  it  was  a  note  from  a  girl,  and  fur- 
thermore that  it  was  from  a  girl  in  whom  the  new  requisition 
clerk  had  more  than  a  passing  interest.  So  he  waited,  and 
when  Dawson  suddenly  turned  to  him  he  was  innocently  in- 
specting an  art  calendar  hanging  on  the  wall. 

"Mr.  Garvin,  do  you  know  of  a  good  costumer  here  in 
Chicago?  A  friend  of  mine  wants  to  get  some  costumes  for 
an  amateur  play  and  wants  the  address  of  a  good  concern." 

Mr.  Garvin  pondered  a  moment,  then  he  slapped  his  knee 
as  a  great  thought  struck  him. 

"I  know  the  best  one  in  town,"  he  exclaimed,  "and  when 
you  get  ready  to  go  over,  just  telephone  me  and  I'll  go  over 
with  you.  My  number's  on  the  card  there.  And  if  I  can't  get 
you  a  discount  of  30  per  cent,  my  name  isn't  Garvin.  I'll  save 
you  some  money,  my  boy." 

Dawson  grasped  his  hand  with  impulsive  gratitude, 
thanked  him  warmly,  and  promised  to  telephone  him  just  as 
soon  as  he  could  arrange  a  suitable  time  for  going.  He  then 
turned  to  telephone  Nell. 


DAWSON  'i  i—  FORTUNE  HUNTER         119 


AT  noon  on  the  day  after  Dawson  telephoned  to  Nell 
Courtright,  the  shoppers  in  the  waiting-room  of  a  certain 
large  department  store  were  aroused  to  sudden  interest 
by  the  arrival  of  a  young  man  who  rushed  eagerly  forward 
to  greet  a  young  girl  who  evidently  was  expecting  him.  A 
broad  smile  of  amusement  blossomed  on  every  face,  for  the 
frank  joyousness  of  the  young  man's  greeting,  as  well  as  the 
embarrassed  but  happy  light  in  the  young  girl's  eyes,  told  a 
story  which  every  woman  instinctively  and  sympathetically  un- 
derstood. For  a  moment  the  tide  of  commerce  paused  in  its 
mad  rush,  and  then  flowed  on,  carrying  with  it  faces  that  were 
brighter,  and  hearts  that  were  softer  because  of  the  amusing 


120         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

little  drama  it  had  witnessed.  Old  ladies  beamed  amiably, 
young  ladies  smiled  knowingly  and  a  little  wistfully,  while 
hardened  old  business  men  grinned  broadly — and  thus  for  a 
brief  moment  the  world  was  made  more  cheerful  than  it  had 
been  before. 

At  last  Dawson  'n  had  met  Nell,  and  if  his  words  were 
only  the  conventional  words  of  friendly  greeting,  his  beaming 
features  spoke  volumes  which  all  who  ran  could  read. 


When  Dawson  and  Nell  left  the  waiting-room  of  the 
department  store  it  was  half  past  twelve,  and  Dawson  was 
happier  than  he  had  ever  been  before.  A  sense  of  joyous 
elation  in  being  able  to  serve  the  one  girl  he  liked  more  than 
all  the  other  seven  hundred  and  fifty  million  girls  in  the  world 
put  together  was  almost  more  happiness  than  he  could  stand. 
The  noonday  throngs  that  crowded  the  sidewalks  observed  him 
with  interest,  and  knew  that  he  was  not  the  young  lady's  brother. 

"We've  got  to  hurry,"  Dawson  explained,  "because  Mr. 
Garvin  is  to  meet  us  at  the  costumer's  at  half  past  twelve.  He 
says  he'll  be  able  to  get  you  a  big  discount  from  the  regular 
price.  You'll  like  him,  Nell.  It  was  a  great  piece  of  luck, 
getting  him  interested." 

"I  think  it's  perfectly  fine,  Charley,  saving  us  all  that 
money,  and  I  know  I'll  like  your  friend  very  much." 

"He's  not  exactly  a  friend,  Nell,  for  I  just  met  him  yester- 


DAWSON  'i  ^FORTUNE  HUNTER         121 

day;  in  fact,  I  met  him  for  the  first  time  only  a  few  moments 
before  your  note  came.  He  was  sitting  by  my  desk  at  the 
time,  and  after  I  read  your  note  I  asked  him  if  he  knew  of  any 
good  costuming  concern  where  you  could  get  your  things  for 
the  Dramatic  Club.  He  volunteered  to  help  us  out." 

"Well,  anyway,  I  think  it  is  awfully  nice  of  him  to  go 
to  all  this  trouble  for  somebody  he  hardly  knows.  I'm  begin- 
ning to  like  Chicago  better  already.  I  thought  everybody  up 
here  was  too  busy  with  his  own  affairs  to  bother  with  anybody 
else,  and  now  I  find  that  I've  been  doing  them  all  an  injustice. 
I*m  sure  he  must  like  you,  Charley,  or  else  why  should  he  be 
so  nice  to  you  ?" 

Dawson  was  silent.  For  the  time  he  began  to  ask  him- 
self questions  which  in  his  innocence  had  not  before  occurred 
to  him :  Why  was  Mr.  Garvin  going  to  this  trouble  for  him  ? 
Why  was  he  doing  favours  for  a  man  he  hardly  knew? 
Dawson  was  struck  by  sudden  illuminating  misgivings.  Was  this 
part  of  that  great  system  of  grand  and  petit  graft  that  was 
said  to  honeycomb  the  commercial  world?  Was  it  the  first 
move  of  a  man  who  wished  to  put  him  under  obligations  in 
the  hope  that  the  favours  would  be  returned,  not  by  Dawson 
in  his  private  capacity,  but  by  Dawson,  requisition  clerk,  who 
had  it  in  his  power  to  order  big  supplies  of  stationery  which 
Mr.  Garvin  had  to  sell?  Was  this  that  bribery  in  disguise 
which  he,  Dawson,  had  so  firmly  resolved  to  resist  and  which 
now  appeared  in  such  an  innocent  and  friendly  guise?  Was  it 


122         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

the  entering  wedge  by  which  Mr.  Garvin  was  to  test  Dawson's 
integrity,  to  see  whether  he  could  be  "reached"  ? 

The  more  Dawson  thought  of  it,  the  more  convinced  he 
became  that  Mr.  Garvin's  motives  were  not  entirely  unselfish, 
and  as  this  conviction  grew  he  resolved  with  more  deter- 
mination than  ever  not  to  lower  his  fixed  standards  of  business 
ethics.  No,  he  would  not  accept  favours  in  private  which 
might  obligate  him  to  return  them  in  his  official  capacity. 

Dawson  was  so  absorbed  in  this  new  and  unexpected  line 
of  thought  that  Nell  looked  anxiously  at  him  and  asked  him 
why  he  was  so  silent. 

"I've  just  thought  of  something,  Nell,  that  hadn't  struck 
me  before.  I've  decided  that  we  mustn't  accept  any  favours 
from  Mr.  Garvin.  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it  afterwards;  there 
isn't  time  now,  for  here  we  are." 

A  couple  of  minutes  later  they  entered  the  costumer's,  and 
were  met  by  Mr.  Garvin,  the  soul  of  good  humour  and  friend- 
liness, and  by  him  were  introduced  to  the  proprietor  of  the  shop. 


DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER         123 


DAWSON  'i  i  found  himself  in  a  most  uncomfortable  posi- 
tion.   He  didn't  wish  to  offend  Mr.  Garvin,  salesman  of 
the  Titanic  Stationery  Company,  and  at  the  same  time  he 
was  determined  not  to  accept  special  favours  in  his  private 
capacity  which  he  might  be  expected  to  return  in  his  official 
position  as  requisition  clerk  of  Morrill  &  Co.    Of  that  he  was 
certain,  but  he  was  far  from  certain  whether  Mr.  Garvin, 
in  wishing  to  serve  him,  was  actuated  by  simple  kindness,  rather 


i24         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

than  a  calculating  design  to  place  him  under  embarrassing 
obligations.  If  the  former  were  true,  it  seemed  unfair  to 
repel  Mr.  Garvin's  courtesy  with  suspicion  and  distrust.  By 
doing  so  he  would  be  placing  himself  in  a  "holier  than  thou" 
attitude,  which  would  be  absurdly  narrow  and  prudish,  as  well 
as  unjust  to  a  man  who  was  acting  only  in  a  genuinely  unselfish 
spirit.  The  line  between  a  friendly  service  and  a  calculating 
service  at  all  times  is  hard  to  define,  but  the  more  Dawson 
analysed  the  present  circumstances  the  more  convinced  he  was 
that  he  could  not  reasonably  expect  Mr.  Garvin  to  be  wholly 
unselfish,  in  view  of  their  very  short  acquaintance.  So,  when 
the  first  opportunity  offered,  Dawson  told  him  not  to  ask  the 
costumer  for  a  special  rate  on  the  costumes  that  Nell  Courtright 
was  getting  for  her  dramatic  club  entertainment 

Garvin  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter?"  he  asked. 

"Well,  to  put  it  plainly,  Mr.  Garvin,  there  are  certain 
reasons  why  I'd  prefer  not  to  be  under  obligations  which  I 
might  never  be  able  to  repay." 

Garvin  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Well,  of  course,  if  you  feel  that  way  about  it,  all  right," 
he  said  slowly.  "I  was  only  trying  to  do  you  a  simple  kind- 
ness. You  asked  me  if  I  knew  a  good  costumer,  and  I 
saw  a  chance  of  doing  you  a  little  service,  that's  all.  If  I've 
butted  in,  I'm  sorry;  but  I  meant  all  right." 

Dawson  flushed  with  humiliation.  He  felt  mean  and  small, 


DAWSON  f  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER         125 

and  his  attitude  in  having  repulsed  the  generous  courtesy  of 
a  well-meaning  acquaintance  seemed  petty  and  prudish  be- 
yond words.  He  saw  himself  in  the  light  of  a  self-assumed 
sanctity  that  made  him  look  ridiculous  and  hateful,  for  of  all 
types  he  detested  most,  the  sanctimonious  was  the  one.  Yet 
something  far  within  him  told  him  that  he  was  right,  and 
that,  no  matter  how  hard  it  would  be  for  him  to  live  up  to  his 
principles,  he  stubbornly  would  stick  to  them,  regardless  of 
consequences.  If  he  appeared  quixotic  or  prudish,  all  right. 
They  were  his  principles,  and  he  was  resolved  to  stand  by  them. 

Garvin  was  watching  him,  as  though  expecting  a  reaction, 
but  it  failed  to  come,  and  he  was  surprised.  Usually  the  re- 
action came  quickly,  for  it  is  hard  for  abstract  moral  prin- 
ciples to  withstand  such  an  appealing  human  quality  as  friend- 
liness. He  decided  that  Dawson  was  a  moral  crank,  well  mean- 
ing but  narrow,  who  was  trying  to  apply  antiquated  Sunday 
School  ethics  to  the  cut-throat  world  of  business. 

"Mr.  Garvin,  I  mink  I  know  what  you  are  thinking  about 
me,  and  perhaps,  from  your  point  of  view,  you  are  right;  and 
I  suppose  you  know  perfectly  well  why  I  don't  want  to  be  under 
obligations  to  you." 

"Perfectly  well,"  assented  Garvin,  smiling  grimly.  "You 
think  I  am  trying  to  get  'next'  to  you,  now  that  you  are  in  a 
position  to  be  of  use  to  me  over  at  Merrill's.  Well,  I'll  ad- 
mit that  that  angle  had  occurred  to  me.  It's  part  of  the  game, 
my  boy,  and  some  day  you'll  have  to  recognise  and  accept  it. 


126         DAWSON  'n— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

In  tfie  meantime,"  he  continued,  starting  to  go,  "if  I  can  ever 
do  you  a  favour  that  you're  willing  to  accept,  just  let  me  know." 

"Wait  a  minute,  Mr.  Garvin.  You  can  do  me  a  favour 
now.  I  wish  you  would  take  lunch  with  Miss  Courtright  and 
me." 

Garvin  laughed  good  naturedly. 

"All  right,  my  boy.  My  feelings  are  not  hurt  in  the  least. 
We  will  study  each  other  as  business  curiosities." 

A  few  minutes  later  the  three  were  seated  in  a  restaurant 
and  Dawson  and  Garvin  were  launched  in  a  discussion  of  busi- 
ness ethics,  each  defending  views  that  were  widely  variant. 


DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER         127 


AS  they  sat  at  the  luncheon  table  Dawson  and  Garvin  dis- 
cussed the  subject  of  business  morals,  each  from  his  own 
point  of  view,  while  Nell  sat  by,  an  interested  listener. 
Dawson     argued     from     the  standpoint     of     one    who     is 
strong  in  the  idealism  of  youth,  when  honour  and  self-respect  are 
more  important  than  material  success;  Garvin  argued  from  the 
standpoint  of  one  who  has  been  in  the  game  so  long  and  has 
suffered  the  hard  knocks  of  life  so  much  that  material  success 
is  all  important.    With  him  the  end  "justified  the  means."    The 


128         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

important  thing  was  to  "make  good,"  and  he  felt  certain  that 
the  world  wasn't  very  particular  about  the  small  details  of  how 
he  made  good. 

"Now,  you're  just  getting  in  the  game,  Mr.  Dawson,"  he 
said,  "and  I've  been  in  it  for  twenty-five  years.  You  come 
up  here  with  certain  ideals  which  you  are  trying  to  apply  to 
modern  business  life.  Isn't  that  so?" 

"Well,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  it's  so.  I'm  trying  to 
apply  certain  standards  to  my  own  business  life.  I'm  not  trying 
to  reform  anybody  else." 

"Well,  I  want  to  tell  you  right  now  that  you'll  find  it 
mighty  hard  to  live  up  to  those  ideals  if  you  expect  to  get  any- 
where. If  everybody  was  honest  it  would  be  easy,  but  everybody 
isn't."  Garvin  was  very  much  in  earnest.  "You  have  to  fight 
fire  with  fire.  You  have  to  do  business  with  men  who  are  willing 
to  do  anything  providing  they  get  what  they  are  after.  They 
will  use  any  method  to  'do'  you,  and  it's  impossible  to  compete 
with  them  unless  you  adopt  those  methods  yourself.  Take 
rebating,  for  instance.  What  chance  would  you  have  against 
a  competitor  who  was  willing  to  take  secret  rebates?  Not  a 
chance  in  the  world.  How  many  of  the  rich  men  of  to-day  have 
made  their  fortunes  by  adhering  to  ideals?  Mighty  few,  let 
me  tell  you,  yet  now  they  are  honoured  and  respected,  while  the 
men  who  tried  to  fight  them  with  high  ideals  are  gone  and 
forgotten." 

Dawson  couldn't  help  smiling.     This  argument  was  such 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER         129 

an  old  one,  and  the  one  that  every  dishonest  man  in  the  country 
was  using  to  justify  and  extenuate  his  own  moral  obliquity. 

"Times  are  changing,"  said  Dawson.  "The  country  is 
waking  up  to  the  necessity  of  raising  business  standards.  The 
old  style  methods  of  doing  business  are  going  out,  and  people 
won't  stand  for  crookedness  the  way  they  used  to.  You  can 
feel  it  in  the  air,  in  business  as  well  as  politics." 

Mr.  Garvin  evidently  had  not  felt  it ;  at  any  rate,  he  didn't 
seem  convinced.  Twenty-five  years  of  easy  tolerance  in  business 
methods  had  made  him  conservative  in  adapting  himself  to  a 
new  and  more  rigid  standard  of  business  ethics.  Any  demand 
for  a  change  from  the  old  order  of  things  was,  in  his  mind,  an 
effort  to  unsettle  business  and  destroy  confidence.  If  Mr.  Garvin 
felt  anything  it  was  that  he  must  defend  his  point  of  view. 

"Take  myself,  for  instance,"  he  argued.  "Now,  I'm  a 
salesman  for  a  stationery  company.  How  long  do  you  think 
I'd  hold  my  job  if  I  didn't  bring  in  business,  and  how  long 
would  I  bring  in  business  if  I  didn't  go  after  it  just  as  hard 
as  any  of  my  competitors?  My  firm  doesn't  ask  how  I  get 
the  business.  The  main  thing  with  them  is  that  I  get  it." 

"But  you  can  get  it  on  the  square,  can't  you?"  asked 
Dawson.  "If  your  goods  are  all  right,  what  more  is  neces- 
sary?" 

"The  quality  of  your  goods  isn't  always  the  thing  that 
sells  them.  A  salesman  has  to  establish  friendly  relations  with 
buyers.  He's  got  to  spend  money.  Now,  my  firm  allows  me 


i3o         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

a  certain  amount  of  spending  money,  and  I  am  supposed  to  use 
it  where  it  will  do  the  most  good.  If  I  give  a  little  present  or 
a  little  commission  to  a  purchasing  agent,  no  questions  are  asked 
providing  I  get  the  order.  People  don't  like  to  do  business  with 
a  tightwad,  and  it's  a  universal  element  in  human  nature  that 
people  like  to  get  something  for  nothing." 

"But  they  don't  get  it  for  nothing,"  exclaimed  Dawson. 
"All  this  money  is  paid  by  the  customer  in  the  long  run,  isn't  it? 
He  may  not  know  it,  but  sooner  or  later  he  has  to  put  up 
for  it." 

Mr.  Garvin  grinned  amiably. 

"Sure,"  he  said,  "but  what  if  he  does?  He  takes  it  out 
of  the  next  man  and  so  evens  up  in  the  end." 

"And  the  next  man  is  always  some  poor  fellow  who  can't 
afford  it,  isn't  he?" 

"Well,  that's  his  fault.  If  he  was  in  position  he  would 
probably  soak  us  just  as  hard."  Mr.  Garvin  laughed  quite 
audibly. 

"Look  out,  then,  Mr.  Garvin,  for  he's  waking  up,  and  I 
think  he's  getting  ready  to  soak  you." 

"All  right,  my  boy."  He  looked  at  his  watch.  "I  must 
be  going  now,  but  in  the  meantime,  my  young  friend,  I  wouldn't 
try  to  reform  the. business  methods  of  the  day.  Take  the  good 
things  as  they  come  along,  and  when  you  make  your  pile  you 
can  begin  your  reforming." 

"Thanks,  Mr.  Garvin,"  said  Dawson.     "I'll  stick  to  my 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER         131 

code  and  you  stick  to  yours,  if  you  want  to,  and  we'll  see  how 
it  works  out." 

As  they  left  the  restaurant  Dawson  felt  the  soft  pressure 
of  a  hand  on  his  arm,  and  looked  down  to  see  Nell's  face  shining 
with  pride  and  approval.  A  moment  later  they  were  on  the 
street,  and  in  the  crowd  he  saw  "Scads"  Allcott  hurrying  along 
with  a  young  woman.  They  looked  as  though  they  were  quar- 
relling. Dawson  did  not  speak  of  it,  but  he  wondered  if  Nell 
had  seen. 


132 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


X  TELL  COURTRIGHT'S  little  visit  to  Chicago  came  to  an 
•*•  ^  end  and  Dawson  saw  her  safely  on  board  her  train.  As  the 
tram  pulled  out  he  stood  on  the  platform  until  it  had  dis- 
appeared from  view,  and  then  slowly  turned  to  face  the  vast  lone- 
liness of  life  without  her.  All  the  sunshine  and  music  in  his  soul 
were  gone,  and  he  realised  as  he  never  had  before  how  much  she 
meant  to  him.  When  he  thought  of  her  he  was  conscious  of  a 
feeling  like  that  of  being  swiftly  dropped  in  an  elevator,  a  faint, 
gone  sensation,  which  he  recognised  as  love  in  its  most  unmis- 
takable form.  He  had  felt  it  before  In  incipient  stages,  but 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER         133 

never  like  this.  It  was  now  like  a  severe  and  prolonged  attack 
of  stomach  ache  without  the  pain. 

"I  guess  I've  got  it  bad,"  he  thought.  "There's  no  dis- 
guising that  fact.  There's  nobody  in  the  world  like  her." 

That  night  he  wrote  her  a  long  letter  about  nothing  in 
particular,  but  which  was  meant  to  express  the  hope  that  she  had 
arrived  home  safely.  After  it  was  mailed  he  became  panic 
stricken.  Why  had  he  written  ?  What  possible  excuse  was  there 
for  such  a  long  and  idiotic  letter?  But  when,  two  days  later,  a 
very  cordial  answer  came  he  blessed  the  impulse  that  had  led 
him  to  write.  He  read  her  letter  over  and  over  again,  searching 
for  something  that  might  give  him  an  excuse  for  writing  again, 
and  he  finally  found  one  which  seemed  sufficient.  "The  trip 
was  uneventful,  but  oh,  why  must  they  keep  the  cars  so  close 
and  hot?"  she  had  written,  and  he  answered  it  at  length,  telling 
her  why. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  correspondence  that  furnished 
him  two  very  bright  spots  each  week,  one  that  came  with  the 
joy  of  writing  to  her  and  the  other  that  came  with  the  arrival 
of  a  letter  from  her.  The  name  of  "Scads"  Allcott  had  never 
been  mentioned  by  either  of  them,  and  Dawson  was  sure  that 
"Scads"  had  ceased  to  be  an  element  of  active  concern  in  her 
life.  Consequently  Dawson  was  happy. 

Winter  melted  into  spring,  and  the  trees  and  shrubs  were 
dappled  with  tender  green.  Everywhere  nature  was  stirring. 
Street  pianos  were  throbbing,  birds  were  singing,  and  the  shrill 


i34         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

cries  of  children  resounded  from  every  vacant  lot.  "It's  grand 
to  be  alive,"  thought  I5awson,  "but  oh,  how  I'd  like  to  be  down 
home  these  days!"  In  his  mind's  eye  he  could  see  the  radiant 
transformation  of  his  little  home  town  from  the  grey  winter 
shabbiness  to  its  fresh  spring  loveliness.  The  blossoms  and 
leaves  were  so  much  farther  along  down  there,  he  knew.  He 
could  hear  the  sound  of  hammering  and  sawing  and  carpet 
beating  that  always  signalises  the  coming  of  spring  in  a  small 
town,  and  he  knew  that  every  barnyard  was  simmering  to  the 
sunny  music  of  clucking  hens  and  peeping  little  chicks.  Calves, 
and  colts,  and  puppies,  and  kittens  would  soon  be  contributing 
to  the  joyousness  of  life  in  the  country,  and  Dawson  was  filled 
with  the  vague  yearnings  and  restlessness  of  spring  fever. 

"I'll  go  down  for  commencement,"  he  vowed,  "if  I  have  to 
walk,  wade,  and  swim.  And  if  she'll  have  me  I'll  take  the  fatal 
leap."  It  was  a  pleasing  thought,  and  he  fairly  trod  the  air 
as  he  made  his  way  along  the  familiar  walks  in  the  park.  How 
well  he  remembered  these  benches  and  trees!  He  shuddered 
to  think  of  those  days  of  discouragement  when  he  was  trying 
so  vainly  to  get  a  position.  How  unhappy  and  wretched  he 
had  been ! 

Unconsciously  his  steps  led  him  to  a  bench  where  upon 
more  than  one  occasion  he  had  slept  through  the  choking  hot 
nights  of  last  summer.  As  he  approached  it  he  saw  a  young 
man  sitting  where  so  often  he  himself  had  sat.  The  young  man 
was  well  dressed,  but  he  was  leaning  over,  staring  at  the  ground, 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER         135 

a  picture  of  dejection,  strangely  out  of  keeping  with  all  die  fresh 
spring  beauty  of  his  surroundings. 

Dawson  sat  down  beside  him  and  put  his  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"Hello,  'Scads,1 "  he  said.     "What's  the  trouble?1 


136         DAWSON  'i i— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


"  QCADS"  ALLCOTT  was  the  picture  of  despair  as  he  sat 
O  with  Dawson  on  the  bench  in  the  park. 

"Charley,"  said  he  wearily,  "I'm  up  against  it  good 
and  plenty.  Little  'Scads'  has  had  his  whirl,  and  it's  come  up  a 
double  o.  Luck  is  against  me,  and  I'm  all  in.  Me  for  the 
discard." 

Dawson  started  to  speak,  but  "Scads"  impatiently  waved 
his  hand. 

"Don't  start  on  the  advice,  Charley.     I  know  what  you're 
going  to  say.    I  know  it's  all  my  own  fault.    I  don't  need  any- 


DAWSON  '  1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER         137 

body  to  tefl  me  that.  I  got;  a  running  start  in  the  wrong  direc- 
tion, and  the  harder  I  tried  to  catch  even  the  worse  off  I  was. 
That's  afl  there  is  to  it." 

"I  wasn't  going  to  give  you  any  advice,  "Scads,*  "*  said 
Dawson.  "I  only  wanted  to  know  exactly  how  you  stand,  and 
what  the  trouble  is,  If  I  can  help  you,  111  do  it." 

"Thanks.  That's  mighty  decent  of  TOOL,,  especially  as  we 
haven  t  been  vtfii  chummy  lately,  for  one  reason  or  another. 
Bat  that  hasn't  been  your  fault.  The  long  and  the  short  of 
the  matter  is  that  I've  been  a  fooL  I'm  only  getting  what's 
«iMMig  to  me,  and  I  don't  suppose  I  ought  to  holler.  Bat, 
believe  me,  little  "Scads*  has  learned  a  lesson  or  two.  and  that's 

--,  :::." 

"Fire  away,  "Scads.'    Tefl  me  what  the  trouble  is."" 
"Scads"  lighted  a  cigarette,  inhaled  deeply  once  or  twice, 
and  then  nervously  iecked  the  ashes  off.    Then  he  began  speak- 
ing  dispassionately,  but  with  an  apparent  effort. 

"You  know  how  I  was  fixed  when  I  came  up  here  last 
summer  to  get  a  job.  WeD,  we  both  started  even,  with  the 
exception  that  my  old  man  kept  me  well  supplied  with  coin, 
and  I  didn't  have  to  get  a  job  to  keep  from  starving.  I  guess 
that  was  the  main  trouble.  If  he'd  given  me  less  it  would  have 
been  better  for  me.  However,  that's  neither  here  nor  there. 
I  had  it,  and  I  wanted  to  get  action  on  it.  The  bright  lights 
beckoned,  and  I  was  right  there  with  the  exact  change  in  my 
I  thought  Fd  have  my  fun  while  I  was  young,  while  I 


138         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

could  enjoy  it.  Well,  I've  had  it,"  he  added  bitterly,  "and 
take  it  from  me,  that's  no  way  to  get  a  start  in  business." 

"Scads"  relapsed  into  gloomy  reflection. 

"It  seems  as  though  Fate  just  sat  back  and  let  me  have 
all  the  rope  I  wanted,  knowing  that  there  would  be  a  grim 
reckoning  one  of  these  days.  There's  something  funny  about 
money,  Charley — especially  easy  money.  It's  mighty  hard  to 
get  along  with.  You've  got  to  treat  it  just  right  or  you'll  get 
the  worst  of  it.  I  suppose  it's  what  they  call  the  law  of  com- 
pensation, as  the  'prof.'  used  to  say.  Fortune  gives  some  of  us 
money,  and  the  money  gets  us  into  trouble;  other  people,  who 
have  none,  have  their  troubles  getting  money.  So  it's  an  even 
break." 

"You're  not  broke  now,  are  you,  'Scads'  ?"  asked  Dawson 
quickly.  "Because,  if  you  are " 

"Charley,  believe  me  or  not,  but  it's  a  fact.  I'm  busted 
flatter  than  the  traditional  pancake."  "Scads"  smiled  grimly. 
"The  'paternal  purse'  is  closed  at  last.  I  went  to  it  just  once 
too  often.  The  governor  came  up  last  week,  not  having  heard 
from  loving  son  for  a  month  or  so,  and  we  had  a  regular  third 
act  finale.  It  was  thrilling.  Hard-hearted  father,  spendthrift 
son.  He  finally  relented,  but  he  warned  me  that  it  was  the  last 
time.  No  more  money  from  him." 

"Well,  haven't  you  got  any  of  that  left?"  asked  Dawson. 

"Scads"  smiled  again. 

"I  tried  to  break  Wall  Street  and  failed.    J.  Pierpont  never 


DAWSON  'n— FORTUNE  HUNTER         139 

will  know  what  a  close  call  he  had.  If  I'd  won,  I'd  been  called 
a  clever  young  man ;  having  lost,  I  am  a  sucker.  You  always 
lose  at  that  game  if  you  can't  afford  to  lose.  Anyway,  here 
I  am,  busted  flat,  snarled  up  with  a  fairy,  and  I've  simply  got  to 
get  out  of  town.  Cheerful  prospect,  eh?" 

"Of  course,  I'll  help  you,  'Scads' — at  least  as  far  as  I  can 
go.  Let's  go  over  and  have  a  bite  to  eat  some  place  and  tackle 
the  problem  from  all  angles." 

So  together  they  left  the  park  and  presently  were  seated 
in  a  neighbouring  restaurant. 


140 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


"T\EAR  MOTHER:  I  had  dinner  with  Scads  Allcott  the 
**^  other  evening,  and  I'm  afraid  that  Scads  is  away  down 
on  his  luck.  He  was  very  blue,  and  very  bitter  against 
the  luck  he's  been  having.  He  says  his  father  has  refused  to 
give  him  any  more  money,  so  I  guess  it's  a  pretty  serious 
case.  He  was  nervous  and  unstrung  and  was  anxious  to 
get  out  of  town — to  go  some  place  where  he  could  get  a 
fresh  start.  "I'm  going  to  cut  out  all  the  fooKsh  busi- 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER         141 

ness,"  he  said,  "and  try  to  make  something  of  myself.  I've 
got  to  get  away  from  the  bunch  IVe  been  training  with  and 
make  a  fresh  start.  I  want  to  rest  up  some  place  for  a 
little  while,  for  Fm  all  shot  to  pieces — then  a  dean  slate  and 
a  new  deaL"  I  felt  sorry  for  him.  We  had  a  long  talk,  and 
when  I  suggested  that  he  go  down  home,  he  said  he'd  never 
go  home  until  he  had  made  good.  He'd  be  ashamed  to  show  his 
face  down  there  under  the  present  circumstances.  I  let  him 
have  some  money — enough  to  get  him  out  West,  where  he  swore 
he'd  make  good  on  his  own  resources  or  starve.  And  I'm 
inclined  to  think  that  he  will  make  good  if  he  gets  down  to  brass 
tacks.  The  trouble  with  Scads  is  that  things  came  too  easy 
for  him  and  he  never  had  to  exert  himself.  He  felt  that  when- 
ever he  wanted  money  his  father  would  thaw  out,  so  what  was 
the  use  of  working.  I  wished  him  good  luck  and  he  said  he 
would  drop  me  a  line  in  a  few  days  from  out  West.  I  haven't 
heard  from  him  yet,  so  I  guess  he  must  have  gone  clear  to  the 
coast. 

Please  don't  breathe  a  word  of  this  to  any  one,  especially 
about  his  condition,  or  that  I  let  him  have  any  money.  There's 
no  use  in  making  it  any  worse  for  him. 

I'm  planning  to  come  down  to  commencement,  so  please 
invite  one  of  your  nicest  fried  chickens  to  assist  on  die  reception 
committee.  Things  are  fine  up  here  and  I'm  getting  along 
scrumptiously  in  my  new  work.  At  least  nobody  has  kicked, 


142         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

so  I  hope  all  is  well.     Love  to  everything  and  everybody,  with 
an  extra  helping  for  you. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

CHARLEY. 


After  Dawson  had  mailed  this  letter,  he  settled  down 
in  the  comfortable  clasp  of  the  arms  of  a  rocking  chair  and 
idly  looked  over  the  weekly  paper  from  home.  In  this  way  he 
kept  in  touch  with  all  the  doings  of  his  old  neighbours.  Among 
the  personal  items  was  one  that  galvanised  him  into  rigid  at- 
tention. 

"Mr.  Scadsworth  Allcott  of  Chicago  is  visiting  his  par- 
ents, Mr.  and  Mrs.  Abner  Allcott.  'Scads,'  as  his  friends  call 
him,  is  now  a  prosperous  business  man  of  the  big  city.  He 
will  remain  here  for  some  time  to  convalesce  from  a  severe 
attack  of  the  grip.  The  wiseacres  attach  a  more  sentimental 
significance  to  his  visit" 

When  Dawson  read  this,  he  saw  in  his  mind's  eye  the 
streets  of  his  old  town,  the  arches  of  green  trees,  the  lilacs 
in  bloom,  and  all  the  fresh  loveliness  of  spring  in  the  air.  He 
was  stricken  with  an  indefinable  attack  of  the  "blues." 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


DAWSON  had  been  looking  forward  with  more  eagerness 
and  concern  than  he  dared  admit  even  to  himself,  to  the 
day  when  his  weekly  letter  from  Nell  was  to  arrive.     The 
day  came  and  passed  with  no  letter,  but  the  day  following 
brought  a  postcard  from  her. 

"Nearly  distracted  with  amateur  entertainment.  I  now 
know  what  it  means  to  be  busy,  and  can  sympathise  with  you 
poor  hard-working  men  in  Chicago. 

"N.  C" 

That  was  all.  Dawson  read  and  reread  it  in  the  hope 
that  he  might  construe  the  words  to  mean  more  than  they 
expressed  on  the  surface,  but  even  by  a  most  liberal  interpreta- 
tion he  could  not  distort  them  into  anything  sufficiently  personal 


i44         DAWSON  'n— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

to  give  him  the  slightest  grain  of  comfort.  He  was  worried 
and  apprehensive.  He  wondered  if  the  presence  of  "Scads" 
Allcott  was  responsible  for  this  new  note  of  chilling  brevity  in 
her  correspondence.  It  was  the  first  postcard  she  had  written 
him,  and  it  was  the  first  week  that  had  failed  to  bring  him  a 
cheerful  letter  of  generous  proportions.  All  the  energy  of  an 
alert  imagination  was  busy  conjuring  up  gloomy  pictures,  and  the 
pictures  persisted  in  coming  no  matter  how  hard  he  struggled 
to  overcome  them  with  reassuring  reflections.  "Perhaps  she 
is  so  terribly  busy  that  she  couldn't  write  a  real  letter,"  he  ar- 
gued hopefully,  but  hot  upon  the  heels  of  this  thought  came 
the  grim  fact  that  the  first  week  she  had  failed  to  write  him  a 
letter  was  the  week  that  "Scads"  was  there. 

"I  must  be  fair,"  he  reasoned.  "It  isn't  right  to  dis- 
trust a  girl  who  has  been  as  nice  to  me  as  she  has  been." 
And  hot  on  the  heels  of  this  argument  came  the  grim  fact 
that  he  had  never  proposed  to  her  and  that  "Scads"  had  ac- 
tually been  engaged  to  her.  She  was  under  no  obligations  to 
be  true  to  one  who  had  never  asked  her  to  marry  him,  or  who 
had  never  even  told  her  he  loved  her.  The  man  who 
wins  a  girl  is  the  one  who  proposes,  not  the  one  who  doesn't 
propose.  The  intentions  of  the  latter  may  be  most  excellent, 
but  something  more  is  required  to  effect  an  engagement. 

Dawson's  frame  of  mind,  which  was  fast  becoming  less 
and  less  cheerful,  was  further  depressed  when  he  read  in  the 
home  paper  that  "Mr.  'Scads'  Allcott,  who  is  here  for  a.  visit, 


DAWSON  'i  i— FORTUNE  HUNTER         145 

has  consented  to  take  part  in  the  forthcoming  dramatic  enter- 
tainment to  be  given  for  the  Samaritan  hospital." 

This  brief  notice  was  the  straw  that  reduced  Dawson  to 
black  despair. 

"What  license  have  I  to  think  of  winning  a  girl  like  Nell 
Courtright?  What  chance  have  I  against  the  son  of  old  Abner 
Allcott?  'Scads'  some  day  will  be  worth  a  half  a  million,  while 
if  I  keep  on  saving  ten  dollars  a  week  I'll  have  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars  in  just  two  hundred  years,  if  my  health  doesn't 
break  down  in  the  meantime.  It  means  a  good  deal  to  a  girl 
to  be  Mrs.  Scadsworth  Allcott — at  least  it  sounds  a  lot  better 
in  the  newspaper  down  home — than  to  be  Mrs.  Charles  Dawson, 
wife  of  a  $3<>a-week  slave  in  Chicago.  As.  Mrs.  Allcott,  she 
will  have  her  costume  described  and  ride  up  in  a  limousine  car; 
as  Mrs.  Dawson,  she  will  arrive  in  a  street  car.  No,  it's  money 
that  counts  nowadays.  It  doesn't  make  any  difference  what 
the  man  is,  provided  his  name  is  a  big  one  and  the  account  of 
the  wedding  sounds  brilliant.  A  man's  got  to  have  money." 

In  this  rebellious  and  gloomy  mood  he  started  for  a  furious 
walk  through  the  park. 

It  was  Sunday,  and  a  genial  May  sun  had  brought  thou- 
sands of  people  out  to  enjoy  the  fresh  spring  loveliness  of  the 
trees  and  the  flowers.  The  day  was  fairly  singing  with  happi- 
ness. Upon  all  sides  there  were  cheerful  and  smiling  faces. 
Nature  was  purring,  and  all  the  world  seemed  to  have  put  on 
its  most  joyous  air  in  honour  of  the  day. 


146         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

As  Dawson  sat  on  the  stone  coping  of  the  esplanade,  he 
noted  with  a  dull  sense  of  resentment  that  humanity  had  paired 
off  in  happy  couples.  Every  young  man  was  side  by  side  with 
a  girl.  It  was  the  spirit  of  spring  in  its  happiest  manifestation. 
To  Dawson  it  seemed  that  he  alone  was  out  of  harmony  with 
the  picture. 

A  pleasant  voice  brought  him  out  of  his  somber  thoughts, 
and  he  looked  up  to  see  Sewell,  the  man  who  had  tried  to 
bribe  him  to  reveal  the  bids  of  Morrill  &  Co.  on  a  big  contract. 

"Hello,  Dawson,"  said  Sewell.  "What's  the  matter? 
Aren't  your  high  ideals  agreeing  with  you?" 

Sewell  had  arrived  at  the  moment  when  those  ideals  of 
honesty  were  sorely  beset  as  they  never  had  been  before.  If 
there  ever  was  a  time  when  the  possession  of  money  seemed 
of  vast  importance,  this  was  the  moment. 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER         147 


TT7HEN  Sewell  spoke  to  Dawson  he  waited  a  moment  to 
*  »  see  whether  his  friendly  advances  would  be  repelled,  and 
when  they  were  not  he  sat  down  on  the  stone  coping 
beside  the  disconsolate  young  man. 

"What's  the  matter,  Dawson?  Business,  girl,  or  health? 
Or  just  spring  fever?" 

"Mostly  spring  fever,  I  guess,"  answered  Dawson,  smiling 
dryly.  "Spring  fever  with  sentimental  complications." 

"So?  An  affair  of  the  heart,  eh?  Well,  this  is  the  season 
for  such  attacks.  'In  the  spring  a  young  man's  fancy/  you 
know." 

Dawson  said  nothing,  but  in  his  heart  he  felt  vaguely 
resentful  of  things  in  general.  Here  was  Sewell,  well  dressed, 


148         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

prosperous  looking,  apparently  at  peace  with  the  world,  and 
yet  with  a  low  code  of  business  morals.  The  memory  of  their 
last  interview  was  fresh  in  his  mind,  and  he  recalled  how  Sewell 
had  attempted  to  establish  a  working  alliance  with  him  in  order 
to  profit  at  the  expense  of  their  respective  employers,  the  rival 
firms  of  Dodge  &  Co.  and  Morrill  &  Co.  And  here  was  he, 
Dawson,  who  had  clung  to  his  high  ideals,  and  who  now  was 
in  the  slough  of  despond  because  a  rival,  with  no  advantages, 
save  the  possession  of  a  rich  father  and  a  prominent  name, 
supposedly  had  supplanted  him  in  the  affections  of  a  girl.  He 
felt  a  compunction  against  discussing  an  affair  of  this  kind 
with  Sewell,  but  the  desire  to  talk  of  it  was  strong.  Sewell's 
attitude  was  one  of  friendly  concern  and  sympathy. 

"How  does  it  happen,  Sewell,  that  you,  who  make  no 
bones  about  doing  underhanded  work  for  Dodge  &  Co.,  are 
cheerful  and  good-humored,  while  I,  who  won't  stand  for  any- 
thing that  isn't  on  the  square,  am  just  at  present  somewhat 
down  on  my  luck?  It  doesn't  seem  quite  appropriate,  does 
it?" 

Sewell  smiled  indulgently.  He  seemed  to  take  no  offense 
at  the  frank  words  of  the  younger  man. 

"Well,  Dawson,  there  are  a  lot  of  things  that  you've  got 
to  learn  before  you  get  along  much  farther.  High  ideals  are 
all  right — I  won't  quarrel  with  you  on  that  score — but  high 
ideals  and  business  don't  always  go  together.  You've  got  to 
strike  a  working  average  between  them.  Now,  I  suppose,  you 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER         149 

know  that  I  wouldn't  steal  a  cent — under  any  circumstances. 
I'd  rather  have  my  hand  cut  off.  But  when  it  comes  to  using 
my  brain  and  my  opportunities  in  other  directions  I  don't  allow 
any  grand  and  lofty  scruples  to  interfere.  You  can't  adjust  high 
ideals  with  cut-throat  business  methods,  such  as  exist  to-day. 
For  instance,  take  the  successful  business  men  of  to-day — the 
big  millionaires ;  how  many  of  them  would  be  willing  to  make 
a  clean  breast  of  the  methods  they  used  to  get  their  fortunes? 
Not  many,  believe  me,  yours  truly.  I  know." 

Dawson  said  nothing,  and  Seweil  continued : 

"There  are  two  kinds  of  honesty — business  and  private. 
I  think  I  am  square  in  a  personal  and  private  way,  but  when 
it  comes  to  business  I  merely  do  what  successful  men  in  the 
past  have  done.  I  use  my  opportunities,  and,  in  a  way,  I  be- 
lieve that  the  end  justifies  the  means.  After  a  man  makes  a 
great  fortune,  people  don't  concern  themselves  about  the  way  he 
made  it.  The  mere  fact  that  he  has  it  is  as  far  as  they  look. 
He  becomes  a  philanthropist  and  a  prominent  citizen.  His  name 
is  on  all  the  reception  committees  when  some  eminent  visitor  is 
to  be  entertained.  Isn't  that  a  fact?" 

Dawson  nodded. 

"I  suppose  there  is  a  good  deal  of  truth  in  what  you  say, 
Seweil,  but  I've  also  observed  that  in  the  last  few  years  the 
public  is  not  quite  so  much  dazzled  by  big  names.  A  lot  of 
prominent  millionaires  have  been  getting  into  trouble.  Their 
unscrupulous  but  financially  successful  methods  are  bobbing  up 


150         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

to  plague  them.  People  don't  ask,  'Has  he  got  it?'  but  'How 
did  he  get  it?'  They  won't  stand  for  crookedness  the  way 
they  used  to.  You  ,can  feel  it  in  the  air." 

Sewell  smiled  in  a  tolerant  way. 

"A  few  get  into  hot  water,  perhaps,  but  think  of  the 
ones  that  don't.  You  have  to  take  a  gambler's  chance  on  that 
proposition.  It's  part  of  the  game.  That's  where  the  spice 
of  danger  comes  in.  Now,  take  our  own  cases,  for  example. 
I  am  on  Easy  Street.  I  make  a  good  salary  and  three  times 
as  much  on  the  side.  You  are  making  a  fair  salary,  and,  at 
the  usual  rate  of  advancement,  you  will  be  a  white-haired  old 
octogenarian  before  you  have  a  fortune  if  you  depend  on  your 
salary.  Just  figure  it  up  yourself." 

Dawson  smiled  grimly.  Here  was  the  old  argument,  the 
one  that  every  dishonest  young  straggler  was  using  to  extenuate 
his  moral  delinquencies.  Sewell  misconstrued  his  silence  and 
continued  his  argument. 

"Now  one  of  these  days  you  probably  will  be  getting 
married.  And,  believe  me,  your  voyage  on  the  matrimonial 
sea  won't  be  any  joy  ride  at  the  salary  you're  getting.  Now's 
the  time  to  get  busy  on  the  side.  I  can  put  you  in  the  way 
of  making  a  lot  of  money  if  you'll  get  rid  of  some  of  those 
small  town  scruples.  Get  in  the  game,  Dawson,  while  you're 
young.  You  always  can  reform  after  you've  made  your  pile, 
you  know.  And,  in  the  meantime,  you'll  stand  a  lot  better 
show  of  getting  the  girl  you're  after  if  you've  got  a.  little 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER         151 

bunch  of  money  ahead.     How  about  it?     With  ordinary  care, 
no  one  will  ever  4tumble  to'  the  game  we  can  work  together." 

"No,  Sewell,  you  don't  get  my  point  of  view  at  all.  It 
isn't  the  fear  of  getting  caught  that  makes  me  want  to  keep 
straight.  It's  the  dread  of  having  to  confess  to  myself  that 
I'm  not  straight.  It  isn't  what  other  people  may  think  of  me; 
it's  what  I  would  have  to  think  of  myself.  When  I  shake 
hands  with  a  decent  person  I  want  to  feel  that  I'm  straight  and 
clean.  That's  the  reason  I'm  trying  to  be  on  the  square,  and 
why  I  intend  to  be,  no  matter  if  I  don't  make  a  financial  suc- 
cess. I  want  to  keep  my  own  self-respect.  As  for  getting 
married  some  day,  I  don't  suppose  I  shall  ever  get  married,  but 
if  I  ever  should,  I  think  my  chances  of  being  happy  will  be 
better  if  I  am  straight  instead  of  crooked." 

When  Dawson  returned  to  his  room  that  day  he  felt  better 
for  having  "stuck  to  his  guns."  His  talk  with  Sewell  had 
strengthened  his  determination  to  be  on  the  square,  "no  matter 
what."  It  would  be  nice,  of  course,  if  he  could  have  included 
Nell  Courtright  in  his  plans  for  the  future,  but  even  if  he 
could  not  he  would  have  the  satisfaction  of  being  straight  for 
his  own  sake. 

A  special  delivery  letter  awaited  him. 

"Dear  Charley,"  it  read,  "No  letter  from  you  this  week. 
I  do  hope  you  are  not  ill.  Please  don't  be,  because  I  want 
you  to  be  sure  to  come  down  for  commencement  next  week. 
Write  soon  and  tell  me  you  will  surely  come.  "NELL." 


152         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


DAWSON  obtained  a  two  days'  leave  of  absence  from  the 
office,  and  long  before  train  time  he  boarded  the  car  that 
was  to  carry  him  home.     It  seemed  too  good  to  be  true. 
In  a  few  short  hours  he  should  again  be  among  the  people 
he  loved  so  much  and  whom  he  had  not  seen  since  Thanks- 
giving time.     His  eagerness  grew  as  the  train  sped  on,  and 
when  at  last  he  saw  familiar  landmarks  by  the  track,  he  moved 
himself  and  his  suitcase  up  to  a  seat  near  the  door.     He  was 
determined  to  get  every  minute  out  of  his  visit  home.     As  a 
final  preparation  for  his  triumphant  return  he  carefully  brushed 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER         153 

his  new  spring  suit,  and  determined  to  do  all  he  could  to  im- 
press his  old  neighbours  with  visible  signs  of  his  prosperity. 

The  family  reunion  at  the  depot  was  up  to  all  his  ex- 
pectations. Bud  even  had  brought  old  Shep  down  to  greet 
the  returned  traveler,  and  Dawson's  measure  of  happiness  was 
filled  when  the  venerable  dog  wagged  a  demonstrative  recog- 
nition. 

How  beautiful  everything  was!  Streets  that  he  last  had 
seen  cold  and  bleak  in  November  were  now  bowers  of  deli- 
cate green;  trees  that  then  were  gaunt  were  now  triumphal 
arches  of  foliage.  The  air  fairly  purred  with  happiness,  and 
Dawson  could  hardly  restrain  himself  from  such  exhibitions  of 
joy  as  would  be  unbecoming  in  a  dignified  man  of  affairs  such 
as  he  now  was. 

Dinner!  All  that  the  wildest  dreams  had  pictured.  A 
feast  to  make  Lucullus  stir  enviously  in  his  somber  mausoleum. 
It  was  an  epicurean  symphony  played  on  the  harps  of  angels ! 
From  time  to  time  Dawson  murmured  "Gee !"  in  complete  ac- 
knowledgment of  his  utter  inability  to  do  justice  to  the  dinner 
in  other  words. 

After  the  dinner  was  over  and  had  taken  its  honoured 
place  among  the  notable  historic  epochs  of  his  life,  Dawson 
discoursed  at  length  on  life  and  politics  and  business,  and  at 
half  past  eight  his  mother,  with  instinctive  understanding,  asked 
him  if  he  didn't  want  to  call  on  some  of  his  friends  before  it 
became  too  late. 


154         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

"You'll  have  plenty  of  time  to  visit  with  us,"  she  said. 
"Now  run  along  and  don't  stay  too  late." 

"Mother's  something  of  a  mind-reader,"  thought  Dawson 
as  he  left  the  yard  and,  by  a  curious  chance,  directed  his  steps 
unerringly  in  the  direction  of  Judge  Courtright's  house. 

The  streets  were  dark,  but  from  all  sides  came  the  sounds 
of  voices  and  music  and  distant  singing.  In  the  dense  shadows, 
cast  by  heavy  foliage  under  the  street  lights,  there  were  glimpses 
of  white  dresses  as  young  people  strolled  along  under  the  arch- 
ing trees.  The  air  was  heavy  with  the  fragrance  of  flowers, 
and  the  spirit  of  spring  was  weaving  a  wondrous  spell  in  Daw- 
son's  heart.  From  each  shadowy  yard  came  the  murmur  of 
low  voices  and  youthful  laughter;  at  many  of  the  gates  he  came 
upon  couples  suddenly  silenced  as  he  passed.  Dawson  quick- 
ened his  steps  until  ahead  of  him  rose  the  old-fashioned  home 
of  Nell  Courtright.  Ever  since  he  could  remember,  this  dig- 
nified old  house  had  impressed  him  as  no  other  house  in  town 
had  ever  done.  There  was  a  simple  dignity  about  it  that  ex- 
pressed the  character  of  Judge  Courtright,  and  Dawson  had 
never  passed  it  without  feeling  a  certain  awe  of  its  modest 
grandeur.  This  feeling  swept  over  him  anew  as  he  opened  the 
gate  and  walked  into  the  yard.  He  suddenly  felt  very  in- 
consequential. 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 


'55 


DAWSON  pulled  the  old-fashioned  bell  knob  and  a  faint 
tinkle  sounded  far  off  in  the  back  of  the  house.  There 
•  was  a  nervous  wait,  then  a  hall  light  was  turned  up,  and 
a  moment  later  the  door  was  opened  by  a  venerable  coloured 
woman.  This  was  old  Aunt  Hester,  "aunt"  by  affectionate 
brevet  to  every  one  in  town,  as  well  as  one  of  the  town's  most 
respected  and  best  known  characters.  She  had  been  with  the 
Courtrights  thirty  years  and  had  been  with  Nell  Courtright's 
mother  when  the  latter  was  a  little  girl  in  the  South.  Ever  since 
he  could  remember,  Dawson  had  known  her  just  as  she  was  now 
— with  white  hair,  gold-rimmed  glasses,  spotless  white  necker- 


156         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

chief  and  crinkly  black  silk  dress,  none  of  which  seemed  to 
change  with  the  passing  years.  As  she  walked  through  the 
noisy  streets  of  the  town  sHe  always  suggested  to  him  an  old- 
time  minuet  in  a  ragtime  atmosphere. 

Yes,  Miss  El'nah  was  in  and  would  Mistah  Dawson  "rest" 
himself  in  the  drawin'  room  for  just  a  moment  ?  Miss  El'nah 
would  be  right  down. 

As  Dawson  waited,  there  presently  came  to  his  ears  the 
sound  of  some  one  moving  quickly  about  in  the  room  above. 
There  seemed  to  be  a  great  deal  of  hurrying  back  and  forth, 
with  mysterious  intervals  of  silence.  Dawson's  nervousness  in- 
creased. He  seemed  singularly  out  of  place  in  the  midst  of  the 
old-fashioned  stateliness  of  the  room  in  which  he  sat.  The 
walnut  woodwork,  darkened  with  age,  and  the  heavy  atmos- 
phere of  surroundings  that  seemed  part  of  a  long-gone  and 
time-honoured  past,  made  him  seem  very  small  and  inconse- 
quential. The  idea  of  asking  Nell  Courtright  to  give  up  this 
old  home,  where  she  was  in  her  proper  setting,  for  anything 
that  he  could  offer !  It  was  preposterous.  He  thought  of  the 
little  flat  that  would  be  the  most  that  he  could  give  to  replace 
the  venerable  and  faded  glory  of  the  Courtright  home.  No,  it 
was  out  of  the  question.  He  mustn't  expect  such  a  miracle  to 
happen.  It  wasn't  fair.  She,  the  daughter  of  a  distinguished 
man  who  was  rich  only  in  honours  and  position,  deserved  more 
than  he  could  ever  hope  to  give  her. 

And  then  she  came.    He  found  himself  shaking  her  hand 


DAWSON  f 1 1— FORTUNE  HUNTER         157 

and  uttering,  in  a  strange  far-away  voice,  a  lot  of  confused 
words  that  seemed  fearfully  commonplace.  He  had  never  seen 
her  looking  so  pretty,  her  eyes  brimming  with  friendliness  and 
her  cheeks  flushed  with  a  glow  that  he  thought  must  have  come 
from  her  hurry  while  dressing.  He  didn't  know  what  he  was 
saying,  and  it  was  not  until  he  felt  a  gentle  tug  at  the  hand  he 
held  that  he  realised  how  long  he  had  been  holding  it. 

"I  couldn't  help  it,  Nell.  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you."  Both 
were  blushing  furiously,  but  she  was  the  first  to  recover  her 
composure. 

"Charley,  isn't  it  dreadfully  hot  in  this  stuffy  old  room? 
Why  in  the  world  did  Aunt  Hester  bring  you  in  here?  We 
always  sit  on  the  porch  these  warm  summer  nights — it's 
so  much  cooler  out  there."  And  without  waiting  for  a  response 
she  fled  to  the  vine-screened  porch,  where  the  friendly  darkness 
could  hide  the  betraying  confusion  in  her  cheeks. 

Both  were  overwhelmed  by  self-consciousness.  The  air 
was  charged  with  disturbing  electric  currents  that  made  their 
efforts  to  talk  in  commonplace  terms  seem  forced  and  hollow. 
Their  conversation  was  lame  and  halting,  and  each  was  inten- 
sely aware  of  the  reason  why  it  was  so. 

From  the  darkness  came  the  thousand  sounds  of  a  soft 
summer  night.  Insects  were  chirping  and  humming,  and  from 
all  sides  came  the  melody  of  distant  singing  and  music  and 
laughter.  Away  off  some  place  in  the  night  some  boys  were 
singing  college  songs;  from  another  direction  came  the  sounds 


158         DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER 

of  guitars  and  mandolins;  a  man  was  practising  on  a  clarinet 
down  near  the  river,  and  yet  nowhere  in  the  heavy  shadows  of 
the  elms  and  the  maples  was  a  human  being  to  be  seen.  The 
air  was  filled  with  the  fragrance  of  flowers  and  the  poetry  of 
rustling  leaves  and  soft  breezes.  It  was  one  of  the  purple 
nights  that  live  in  memory  forever. 

"Isn't  it  beautiful,  Nell?" 

There  was  no  answer.     She  didn't  dare  trust  her  voice. 

"I'd  rather  be  here  than  any  place  in  the  world,  Nell." 

There  was  a  long  silence  and  then,  in  a  voice  stifled  and 
faint,  she  managed  to  frame  a  reply. 

"We  simply  adore  it,  Charley.  Father  and  I  love  this  old 
yard." 

"You  know  what  I  mean,  Nell.  It  isn't  the  yard  and  the 
trees  and  the  music;  it's  being  with  you,  Nell.  I've  dreamed  of 
it  so  often" — his  voice  was  trembling  in  its  earnestness — "O, 
you'd  never  believe  how  much  I've  thought  of  it  and  how  much 
I've  longed  to  be  here  with  you."  He  paused.  "Or  any  place 
with  you,  Nell.  You  do  believe  me,  Nell,  don't  you?"  He 
leaned  forward  and  took  her  hand,  half  fearing  that  the 
wrath  of  the  heavens  would  descend  and  smite  him.  But  it 
did  not.  He  felt  her  hand  tremble  a  little  and  was  dimly  con- 
scious that  her  other  hand  was  pressing  a  little  handkerchief 
to  her  burning  cheeks.  There  was  a  suffocating  silence  that 
seemed  to  last  an  eternity,  and  then,  suddenly,  like  a  sun  that 
bursts  from  behind  the  clouds  and  floods  the  world  with  glory, 


DAWSON  'ii— FORTUNE  HUNTER         159 

came  die  consciousness  that  die  hand  had  not  been  withdrawn. 
He  kissed  her,  and  a  moment  later  was  engaged  to  be  married. 

******* 
Dawson  '11,  Fortune  Hunter,  had  found  his  Fortune. 


minium  mil 

A    000  021  370    2 


